Harry and Gabi
by muggledad
Summary: Does love really withstand all? Can they truly complete each other while navigating the deadly life that others build around them? Harry/Gabrielle
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1: Fourth Year

"Damn"

Harry Potter was a very unhappy young man. He stood by the shore of the Black Lake and threw stones into the dark waters. Being unable to see them land due to the lateness of the hour only emphasized the splashes and skips.

Yesterday evening, he'd been chosen as the fourth Tri-Wizard Champion. Today, he had no friends. Sure, Hermione stood by him, and he was truly grateful; but the whole school was against him with a vehemence that made second year's 'Heir of Slytherin' issue look like a walk in the park.

"Shit"

As he threw another stone, he realized that he felt utterly alone. Again. Growing up at the Dursleys, he had always felt alone, but for the first three years at school he felt at home. No longer; he was alone again and it was heart rending.

"Crap"

As he reared back to throw another stone, an amused female voice from his right laughingly said, "If you'd like, I can help expand your vocabulary."

Harry stumbled a bit and the large rock he was going to throw for a very dramatic end of his brooding splashed in the shallows, wetting his tatty trainers. Turning to his new companion, he blinked. His first thought was "Fleur?" but he immediately discounted it. The young woman in front of him had the same platinum blond hair, curvaceous figure, and angelic features but she was slightly shorter than the Beauxbatons Champion and in contrast to the Beauxbatons Champion, had a friendly expression on her face.

She smiled at the somewhat confused expression on Harry's face, extended her hand and said, "Gabrielle Delacour." Harry shook her hand, still looking a bit confused. She smiled again and said, "Fleur is my older sister. I am fourteen, where she is seventeen."

Harry nodded and then looked back over the water into the night. He rather forcefully shoved his hands in his pockets and waited for Gabrielle to go away. When she didn't, he turned to her and said, "Can I help you with something?"

The blond girl arched a perfect eyebrow and said, "I think the question is 'Can I help you with something?' You were the one selectively swearing and hurling stones in the water not that long ago, were you not?"

With a bit of a chagrined expression, Harry nodded at his feet. "So, Monsieur Potter" she said in a soft, friendly tone, "How can I help you this evening?"

Harry sighed, and then wondered aloud, "Why not?" walking over to a bench, sat and waved his new confidant over to sit next to him. Over the next three hours, he explained to her about his life. He never intended to give that much detail, but something about her invited his confidence. When he described his first entrance into Diagon Alley including the stares and pointing, she snorted and shook her head irritably. "What?" he asked.

She looked at him pointedly for a moment. Her face softened and she said, "You are not the only person who knows what it is like to be treated like a thing to be stared at, an object" and looked away quickly.

For the first time that evening, he considered her point of view. As a part-Veela, she must have experienced similar situations where people leered and pointed, knowing that many of the observers were thinking the most perverted things about her. With a sadness in his heart, he tentatively reached out and rubbed her back in consolation.

"We're quite the pair, aren't we? The Boy-Who-Lived and the Veela." She chuckled, looked at him with a warm smile and leaned into him, acknowledging his comfort.

He finished his tale of loneliness with his arm around her, holding her close for both of their sake. His tale of isolation was not his alone. At the end, they sat there in silence, letting the night breeze wash over them. They had alternated casting warming charms for each other throughout his tale so they were still comfortable, despite the early November chill.

Eventually, Gabrielle said, "Thank you Harry." When he looked at her with a questioning glance, she turned to him and said very seriously, "I thought that Fleur and I were alone. That I was alone. It is very lonesome to be the people that we are. You have helped me very much this evening. Thank you" and she gave him a firm hug.

Harry fell into the warmth of her hug. He'd been hugged by Hermione many times, by Mrs. Weasley a few times as well. This hug from Gabrielle was so much more. It wasn't the grasping desperateness of the lonely bookish girl who was socially awkward, nor the smothering intensity of the redheaded matron. This was a hug of affection and caring. From someone who knew. He returned the hug affectionately and felt her sigh in his arms. There was a prickly feeling that ran up and down his spine that he ignored and focused on the beautiful girl in his arms.

Slowly disengaging, she put her head on his shoulder and he said, "Friends?"

She flashed him a megawatt smile and nodded enthusiastically, "I'd like that very much Harry." Glancing down at her watch she grew flustered and said, "_Merde_, it is midnight, and I must be back at the carriages. Ooooh, I am in so much trouble."

Harry stood, smiled and said, "Well, Mademoiselle, since I am the cause of your lateness, allow me to assist you in your time of need" and with an ostentatious flourish, pulled his invisibility cloak out of his robes with a smile. After much admiration of the cloak on her part, he draped it over the both of them and they moved toward the carriages on the Hogwarts lawn.

Now Harry was in a bit of a predicament. This incredibly beautiful brand new friend of his was pressing her body firmly against his own and he had a hard enough time controlling his breathing, much less anything else. Fortunately, it was a relatively short walk and he dropped her at the door to her room. She pulled him in and gave him another firm hug and a quick peck on the cheek saying, "Will I see you at breakfast, friend of mine?"

With a slightly goofy smile, he nodded at her and she smiled back. Wrapping himself in his cloak, she opened the door as if to use the restroom and Harry snuck back to Gryffindor tower.

Through her window, Gabrielle watched the grass move as he trotted back up to the castle. A familiar presence came up behind her and said, "I was worried about you tonight. I couldn't find you anywhere."

Without turning, Gabrielle said, "I was making a new friend." Turning, she saw her sister's raised eyebrows and rolled her eyes at her. "No, I did not kiss him. I know better to do that so very soon." She sighed and watched where she supposed Harry to be and said _sotto voce_, "But I expect him to be the one" and went off to clean up and go to bed.

.oOo.

Over the next three weeks or so, the two new friends became inseparable. They studied together, they relaxed together. One day, they were relaxing on a couch in the corner of the Gryffindor common room and Gabrielle was telling Harry about her family. Her father's mother was the full blooded Veela in the family it turned out. She had fallen in love with a wizard that she had met at the market of all places.

Harry laughed as she re-enacted her _Grand-Mere_ telling the story of meeting _Grand-Pere_, with _Grand-Pere_ giving input. She waved her hands in the air, and occasionally telling her non-existent husband to "_Ferme le bouche_, Papa."

Describing her father, she said, "My father is a good man and a politician." At Harry's raised eyebrows, she gave him a punch in the arm saying, "He is the only one in all of France that is both." After they finished laughing, she continued, "He is the head of all Foreign relations for our Ministry." Her face turned sad and she said, "Sometimes he is away from home more than any of us would like."

Shaking off the mood, she said, "Mama is a Pure-Blooded Witch who, aside from her hostess duties, works for a charity that supports the old and infirm of the French wizarding community." Harry nodded to himself, impressed. He liked to believe his parents would be doing similar things with their own life, had they survived.

Placing a hand gently on his arm, Gabrielle said, "Harry, tell me about your family."

He winced. That night at the lake he'd told her pretty explicitly about the Dursleys, so he knew she was referring to his parents. Looking at his lap, he said softly, but clearly, "I don't know much about them. My dad was a prankster in school and an Animagus – a stag, you know. My mum was a bit of a bookworm with a fiery temper. They got together in their seventh year. They were Head Boy and Girl together. That's about it." He sniffed a little at his surprise tears.

Gabrielle scooted over on the couch they shared and gave him a gentle hug and whispered in his ear, "That's not nearly enough. Let's write to Sirius" he had told her about his Godfather "and ask him to start writing down all his remembrances of your parents and then we shall go to the library and see what we can find, eh?" He nodded and she said with a smile, "We should also enlist the aid of Hermione, she cares for you as well, and knows the library better than both of us combined!"

The three of them searched through various sections of the library with surprisingly good results. In _Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts_ Harry found that his father had been the Deputy Director of Ambassadorial relations, a fast track position in the Ministry and his mother was listed as a "Spell Designer."

Hermione found a treasure trove of information in _Who's Who in the Wizarding World._ Apparently, the Potter family had a hereditary seat on the Wizengamot, a seat on the Hogwarts Board of Trustees and Harry was a peer of the realm, a Baron no less.

As Harry sat there in shock, he looked at his two friends, Hermione was stunned and had nothing for him. Gabrielle just smiled her smile and said, "What has really changed? You are still the young man with tousled black hair, green eyes and a passion for Quidditch and Treacle Tart." To this Harry and Hermione both laughed, only to be hissed at by Madam Pince.

After digging up a few more facts they headed down to the Great Hall for dinner. Apparently, Harry's great-Grandfather had been Minister for Magic, his grandmother had been a Healer while his Grandfather had been a full time philanthropist.

Hermione had a pensive expression and she turned to Harry and said, "Harry, you should write a letter to Gringotts and have them detail all your accounts and their balances. With some of the things mentioned about your family, you are probably living from a trust account and will come into your complete inheritance at seventeen."

Gabrielle nodded on his other side, "Oui, that is what Fleur and I have in place."

Harry nodded and made a note for one more letter that night.

A few days later, two owls swept down to the Gryffindor table and deposited letters for Harry. Reading Sirius' response first, he smiled and leaned over to Gabrielle and said, "He's going to start a journal and every day write a story or two about mum and dad. He says he knows more about dad so I shouldn't be too disappointed." With a big smile, he said to himself, "Yeah, real disappointed."

Hermione caught Gabrielle's attention and they could only smile at his obvious happiness as he opened the other envelope. The girls watched as his eyes rounded and his complexion paled. Gabrielle, sitting next to him, said, "Harry, is everything alright?"

He turned to her, nodded dumbly and handed her the letter. She settled herself and began to read. Before long she had the same expression as Harry and looked at him. After a brief moment, he began to snicker, which caused her to giggle and before too long they were guffawing.

Hermione would have had her hands on her hips had she been standing and settled for extending a hand across the table to Gabrielle for the letter. Soon, she too was stunned into silence. Harry delicately plucked the letter from her nerveless hands, chuckled nervously and said, "I don't think I'll ever have to worry about money."

.oOo.

The day after they went into Hogsmeade with Hermione and two of Gabrielle's friends, the two of them were on the lawn, underneath a spreading oak, laughing hysterically at Harry's mangled French. Gabrielle had taken on the task of teaching him the language and some of his errors were amusing and sometimes even downright hilarious.

He had just been trying to ask if her mother was in good health but ended up asking if her mother would model her underwear for him. That was why they were both red-faced and panting from the laughing while lying on a blanket surrounded by books and leaves.

After a minute or so, he asked, "Does Fleur know about the First task?"

Gabrielle adopted a serious expression and shrugged. Glancing around, Harry whispered, "I just found out last night, it's Dragons." When her face paled to the color of fresh linen, he quickly said, "Oh, I'm sure that Fleur will be fine. She's a bang up witch."

Gabrielle put her hand in front of her mouth and tears sprang up in her eyes. Shaking her head for a moment, she then launched herself at Harry saying "Non! Non, non, non, I will not let you be hurt!"

Stunned at her reaction, his heart warmed at the same time. The fear that had been oppressive all morning lifted and he could finally think straight. Holding her close as she sobbed on his chest he said, "Hey, hey, don't cry, it's Ok."

She pulled back showing her tearstained face and almost shouted at him, "It is NOT Ok!" and lunged at him again.

Fighting back a smile, he said, "Ok, let's figure this out then. Come on" as her cries subsided he pulled out an old handkerchief for her to use. She smiled and, without thinking about it, used a burst of her Veela power to fix her face and hair.

With a look of chagrin, she looked to Harry, expecting to see a drooling idiot but instead saw him looking at her with confusion. "How'd you do that? I didn't know you could do wandless magic?"

With a broad smile, she said, "Don't worry about it, I'll explain later. How are we going to get you past this Dragon?"

They talked for a bit about his strengths until they hit on flying. "I've always been pretty nimble on a broom" he said. "But I can only have my wand."

Gabrielle laughed and tapped him on the forehead while saying, "Summoning charm Monsieur Potter." Arranging herself in what he called her 'explaining pose' she said "It's a rather simple charm. The incantation is _Accio_, there are no specific wand movements. What makes it a bit difficult for some to learn is that you must concentrate on the object being summoned until it is in your hands, otherwise the spell will fail."

Nodding his head he pointed at her Potions textbook next to her and said, "Accio book." The book twitched but stayed put. Frowning he tried again and again. Gabrielle demonstrated the spell for him a few times and he resumed. The best he got was a twig to fly three or four feet. Now he was getting frustrated.

Gabrielle sat right in front of him and said, "Harry, look in my eyes." When he did, they both froze. He wanted to fall into the azure brilliance of her eyes. He saw affection, trust, caring. A truly beautiful person, inside and out. Most of all he saw someone that he cared for greatly.

She almost lost control looking into his eyes. The emerald uniformity of the windows of his soul pulled her in and the tug of her magic became stronger. She felt it and could no longer deny what it was telling her.

Her body almost betrayed her by moving of its own accord when she finally asserted her will and said, "Now summon the book. Do it for me." Seconds later, the book was in his hands accompanied by one of Gabrielle's brilliant smiles. Repeatedly he perfectly summoned the objects he focused on.

After ten minutes of success, he turned to her and pulled her into his arms, muttering, "Thank you so much" into her hair.

She gave into his touch and ran the fingers of her right hand through his hair, causing him to groan with pleasure. "That feels good" he said after a moment.

"Well, then" she said as she sat down. "Lay down and put your head in my lap and you can relax until we have to go up for dinner." While Harry lay there, half asleep, Gabrielle kept watch over him, humming a lullaby her mother had sung to her as a child. When she was sure he was asleep, she leaned over and gave him a gentle kiss on the forehead, saying "Stay safe, _mon cher_" and picked up her Transfiguration book to read.

Up the hill, at the main entrance to the castle, blue eyes watched them unblinkingly.

The next day was pure torture. They ate together with Hermione in complete silence. Finally, the three of them walked to the contestants tent, Harry and Gabrielle holding hands as they tried to maintain their composure.

Hermione crushed Harry in her trademark hug, which caused Harry to smile a bit. The French Veela smiled as well. Harry had talked long on Hermione, her ways and habits. He had often mentioned that he wished he had a sister like her. Her response had been, "But you do have a sister like her." His confused expression cleared and he smiled at her, nodding.

When Hermione broke her hug, with a few tears tracking down her face, Harry leaned forward and whispered in her ear, "Thanks for always being there sister of my heart." This caused her to totally break down and crush him again while he chuckled. She broke away wiping her face and waved as she ran to the stands.

Gabrielle smiled and said, "You are such a good person. She's trying to comfort you and you give her something she's wanted all her life. A brother." Turning serious, she said, "I need to go wish Fleur luck, but" and now her own tears started, "you _must_ come back to me." Looking in his eyes, she was lost again and the magic swirled and moved over her.

They moved together as one and Harry reached out and cupped her cheek, "I will come back to you, I promise" took a deep breath, leaned in and kissed her. His arms wrapped around her slim waist as he pulled her close and hers around his neck. She deepened the kiss for a brief moment and then they mutually broke away, touched foreheads and looked into each other's eyes.

"You mean so much to me" he whispered. "I don't know what I've ever done without you, no Dragon can stop me."

She kissed him again, and ran off, looking back at him every so often. He stood there and watched her go before turning into the tent. Five minutes later, Fleur walked in, looked around and joined Harry in his corner of the tent. Casting a quick privacy ward, she said, "Harry, I am happy for you and my sister, but I think you need to do some reading on Veela when you are done with the task." With that, she kissed him affectionately on both cheeks and began pacing in her corner of the tent.

Deciding he'd deal with that later, he did some deep breathing to relax. He remembered Gabrielle's fingers in his hair and he smiled.

The task went as planned. Harry summoned his broom and after a few terrifying moments, had his egg in hand. As he walked out of the hospital tent, he was bowled over by a blond dynamo that held him in a crushing hug. Smiling, Harry said, "I'm Ok, and I'm back."

Now she let go of her control and began sobbing, the emotion bleeding out of her. Harry dropped his egg and held her close. Hermione came up behind Gabrielle and at Harry's raised eyebrows; she pantomimed hugging and nodded at him.

Realizing that he needed to just hold her, he did. A few moments later, a quick burst of Veela magic, she pulled away and gave him a deep kiss. Hermione's eyes widened in embarrassment, and she looked away.

Before the scores were given, Ron approached the two girls and Harry and made an incredibly inept attempt at an apology. Harry looked at Ron, then at Hermione who stood next to him, Gabrielle who was in his arms leaning back on his chest and then back at Ron. "Well, Weasley" he said causing Ron to flinch, "I expect you just want me to say that everything is just fine now that you have your head out of your arse."

Gabrielle was glaring at the redhead while Hermione clucked her tongue a few times. "If you want to be my friend, you start over at square one. These two" he motioned to the girls, "Stood by me the last three weeks or so and didn't spread all kinds of rumors and be a general ass. So you start over" and walked away with Gabrielle holding his hand. After they passed the red head, Harry said, "Let's go see Fleur, from what I could hear, she was brilliant."

Ron looked sheepishly at Hermione while she just glared at him and tapped her foot. Finally she said, "You are such a jealous prat Ronald Weasley" and stormed off.

.oOo.

Studying with Gabrielle a lot had a positive result in that Harry's grades were going up. Beauxbatons had a more advanced syllabus than Hogwarts in many subjects, so she was able to help him. One night in the library, he had leaned over to her and whispered, "Why do you study so hard?"

She leaned into him and they both shuddered from a flash of desire. Glancing around and seeing that they were alone, a few passionate kisses were shared before she settled down, and leaned into him. "I want to be more than a pretty face."

Shrugging, she continued, "I also love to learn. You may have noticed that my English is pretty good" he nodded at that. She spoke with only a trace of an accent and only slipped into French when upset. "I also know Italian. It's fun for me to learn. I'm not very good at athletics, nor music, but languages and Transfiguration are my thing!" she finished with a smile and a light laugh.

One night, he was in the library alone as Gabrielle had a school meeting and Hermione a Transfiguration club meeting, so Harry was writing a Charms essay when he remembered Fleur's recommendation. He wandered over to the 'Creatures' section and pulled down a book on Veela and began to read. In the fourth chapter, his heart stopped, started, then stopped again. He slammed the book shut and ran out of the library, his belongings forgotten. There was a blur in the hallways as Harry sprinted out of the castle and down to the Beauxbatons Carriages.

He knocked on the door while he tried to catch his breath, clouds of steam making him look like a locomotive at the station waiting to pull away. A young boy answered and Harry said, "Gabrielle Delacour s'il vous plait." The boy nodded and closed the door again.

A few long minutes later, the door opened again and there she was, wearing a cloak and radiantly smiling at him. Harry held out his hand, helped her down, and hurriedly pulled her over to a place where they could talk. Her smile had faltered and she said, "Harry, what is the matter?"

He explained what Fleur had said in the tent and then, "I grabbed a book on Veela today in the library, just curious about my girlfriend's background and all." She smiled at the reference, he had just formally asked her to be his girlfriend the day before. "I read in chapter four about The Kiss," he said with fear in his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

She looked him in the eye and waved at the ground and they sat. Gabrielle cuddled into his arms and said, "All Veela, or part Veela have a magical compass of sorts that tell us who our most compatible mate will be. It is an unmistakable tug on the magic when we are with the person or feeling strong emotions about the person."

She pulled back and began gently caressing his cheek, she said, "You are my perfect mate, Harry. I felt the tug when we first met that night at the lake and it has only grown stronger since. In the weeks that we have known each other, they have been the happiest of my life. I laugh, sing and dance badly." They both smiled knowing that she had almost ten years of dance instruction and danced very well.

"Veela mature faster than humans and I can honestly tell you that I love you Harry Potter, and will until I die. By kissing you, I bond my self to you. There is only you for me, I can never love another. We Veela are _very_ monogamous" she finished with a laugh.

"You are not affected by the Allure of the Veela. When I used my power to clean up after crying and you asked about the wandless magic?" Harry nodded in remembrance, "Most men would be gibbering idiots after I did that, but you were unaffected. I can be myself with you. You appreciate my beauty, but do not lust after me."

When he raised his eyebrows at her, she giggled and said, "Much. Joking aside, you care for me for who I am, not what I look like, or how much money and influence my family has. I care for you because you are my Harry, not the Boy-Who-Lived or your money and other such nonsense."

"Why I didn't tell you?" She sighed and shook her head slowly as he listened intently, "I was scared. I was afraid I would run you off and I would lose the love of my life." She looked him in the eye with wide eyes, completely vulnerable.

Harry pulled her close, and leaned back on the tree, while she leaned on him. His emotions were a whirlwind right now, but he could feel – almost taste – her honesty, and he valued that greatly. Gabrielle had very quickly become the center of his world. The tournament, Voldemort, everything had faded into the background in not even two short months. From his shoulder, he heard her say, "Relax, _mon cher_. Relax and tell me what your heart says."

Taking a few deep breaths, he exhaled slowly and stopped thinking. His heart was screaming one thing. He smiled and said, "So if I am your Harry, are you my Gabi?"

She smiled and said, "Only for you. No one else can call me that, not even my father."

After a moment to savor the specialness of the night, he said, "With all my adventures, when I've followed my heart, I've not only survived, but triumphed."

With a half-scared look, she said, "What does your heart say now?" knowing that he could condemn her to a life of emptiness and futility with his rejection.

He lifted her chin so he could look her in the eye and softly kissed her. After a quick moment he pulled back and without opening his eyes he said, "That I love you" and kissed her again.

.oOo.

A few days later, Gabrielle accosted him in the Charms hallway the day after the Yule Ball was announced and just looked at him expectantly. Somewhat confused, his brain finally engaged, he dropped to one knee and said with a flourish, "Mademoiselle Delacour, would you do me the great honor of allowing me to escort you to the Yule Ball on Christmas Night?"

She smiled beatifically, curtsied and said, "I would be delighted Baron Potter."

He smiled and rose to give her a quick peck when from behind him he heard, "Can't even get a human date Potty, got to get a creature?"

Harry was moving before Malfoy even finished his sentence. Before the Malfoy heir could even blink, Harry had crossed the gap between them and had his wand pressed painfully in the fleshy part of the underside of Malfoy's jaw. "Be silent," was all he said. The look in Harry's eyes was enough to cause Malfoy to nod dumbly which cut him on Harry's wand.

After staring into the Slytherin's eyes for a long moment, Harry pulled his wand back and gestured down the hall. "Leave" he said and Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle scampered away.

Turning back to Gabrielle, he saw a look on her face that he didn't recognize. Without speaking, she reached out and grabbed his hand, pulling him down the hall. They got to a deserted classroom that she pulled him into and slammed the door shut, muttering a locking charm as she did. Harry figured that he was in for it now. Usually, this was when Hermione really let him have it for some stupid thing he had done.

He looked up, with an apology on his lips when his girlfriend slammed into him, branding him with her kiss. They fell to the floor and she straddled him, kissing him as if her life depended on it. Her hands were everywhere and his lips were claiming her as his own. Feeling bold, he gently caressed and cupped her bum to the accompaniment of groans of pleasure from his girlfriend.

After a few minutes, she pulled back and said in a low voice, "That was the sexiest thing I have ever seen. You were defending my honor; my Chevalier" and softly kissed him again before settling on his chest.

They had practiced dancing every evening since. The rewards given by both parties made them leave their practice room with goofy grins and Harry with his hair even more tousled than usual.

It was finally time for the Ball, and he was getting dressed. Earlier in the day, Gabi had given him a small package that she wanted him to open before he dressed. She blushed a bit, kissed him and ran off to the carriages promising to meet him in the entrance hall. He had opened the package and found a pair of cufflinks in the shape of snitches, the wings beating every so often.

He finished tying his tie (It had taken Hermione a full hour to teach him how to tie it), made sure he had Gabi's present in his pocket and went downstairs, ignoring the plaintive looks from Ron as he passed. He ambled down to the entrance hall, getting there a few minutes early and took up post near the doors.

It was a crystal clear night, the stars shone with a brilliance that he didn't think that he ever remembered. Hearing a noise, he looked down and saw her. She was about ten feet away and she took his breath away. Her hair was piled high on her head in an intricate braid, accentuating the exquisite curve of her neck. She wore a designer dress that was off the shoulder in basic black with a low cut back and a modest décolletage. It was form fitting until mid thigh where it flared out to the floor. Over her shoulders she had a fur stole to keep her warm.

She walked up to her boyfriend who had brain lock, kissed him gently and said, "Harry? Shall we go in?"

He looked her in the eye and merely said, "You are beautiful."

Smiling, she hooked her arm in his and they went up to the door, only to find Hermione there on Viktor Krum's arm. At Gabrielle's insistence, Harry engaged the Bulgarian and they discussed what all wizards with no common ground discuss: Quidditch. Viktor complemented Harry on his performance against the Dragon and Harry complemented Viktor on his World Cup performance.

The ladies looked at each other and rolled their eyes in the same thought: Men. Hermione pulled Gabrielle to the side and with a very serious expression said, "Don't get me wrong, I really like you. I like how you and Harry are together, you make him smile and that says a lot. I just want you to know, that if you hurt him, you'll have to deal with me."

Surprised, Gabrielle turned to her new English friend and said in solemnity, "I cannot hurt him, he is my life." She paused, and in a low voice said, "I love him."

It was Hermione's turn to be surprised and she said, "Oh. Well." Regaining her composure, she said, "Good. I'm sorry if I came across as a twit, but I love Harry as a brother, and he's been hurt so much in his life, I couldn't bear to see him hurt further." Gabrielle nodded and gave the girl a soft hug before they began gossiping about their dates.

Professor McGonagall arranged for the Champions to lead the crowd into the Great Hall and Harry's face was split by an ear-to-ear smile. He never felt so good, the young woman on his arm, his other best friend sitting across the table from him. New friends Fleur and Viktor were at the table and he felt on top of the world. At the end of dinner, he leaned into Gabrielle, said "Thank you for the cufflinks" and flashed his cuffs at her. She smiled brightly as they rose to dance.

As they moved across the dance floor like quicksilver, he couldn't move from her gaze. They ghosted across the dance floor, in perfect synchronization to the music and the other champions and their dates moved aside as Fleur watched her younger sister with wistful pride.

After the introductory dance, the Weird Sisters turned the ball into a dance and Harry and Gabrielle cut loose. She was dancing for him and him alone while he responded with a grace and power that he usually only displayed on his broom.

It was deeply intimate, emotion crashing and melding with movement as their very essence seemed to reach out for each other as magic swirled about the pair.

They were both getting envious looks from many students as they entwined themselves with each other to the throbbing tempo of the music. Occasionally lips would brush, hands grasping and pulling each other close, hips grinding they claimed each other in public for all to see.

After a bit, Harry said, "It's getting a bit hot, would you like to take a walk?" She fanned herself, nodded and took his hand as they walked out. They took two steps outside and she found herself pinned to the wall as he kissed her passionately. She gave as good as she got before he broke away, panting. "You were incredible in there. My god woman, the things you do to me…"

She smiled, proud of how she could affect her man and whispered in his ear, "I almost couldn't control myself with you dancing like that. I wanted to tear your clothes off. The things you do to _me_…"

Harry laughed and wrapped his arm around her and they ambled down the path, cooling off and enjoying being alone with each other. They reached a small alcove with a bench and he pulled her down next to him, casting a warming charm on her as he did so for the chill of the evening was beginning to be felt. She leaned her head on his shoulder and said, "I am having a wonderful time, Harry. Thank you for being my date."

Harry laughed to himself, "Thank you for coming with me. I still don't know what I've done to deserve you, but I'm grateful nonetheless." He dug in his pocket and pulled out a small wrapped package. "Joyeux Noel" he said as he handed it to her.

She looked at him impishly and squealed like a little girl as she used her nails to slit open the paper. Popping off the lid to the small box, she saw the velvet box inside and looked to Harry in stunned disbelief.

He smiled at her and said, "Go ahead, it won't bite."

She upended the box and put the velvet ring box in her hand. With a tremulous hand she opened the box and saw a beautiful sapphire ring flanked with diamonds in a gold setting. Gasping she looked to Harry who said in a low voice, "It's for your right hand. I know we're young, but some day, I'll have one for your other hand."

She slowly pulled the ring out of the box and looked at it. Handing it to Harry, she held out her right hand, he slipped it on her finger and then kissed her hand fervently. He looked her in the face and with all the feeling, he could muster said, "I love you Gabrielle Delacour."

With a half sob, she pulled him down to her and kissed him with passionate abandon. Her hands were in his hair and then under his robes while his roamed over her open back and sides. She pulled his hand to the front and when he cupped her breast, she moaned appreciatively. He pressed her up against the wall and kissed her with searing intensity. Finally, he broke apart, panting and said, "If we don't stop now, I won't be able to stop" and held her to his chest, panting with emotion as he sat on the bench.

"I've never felt this way before, Harry. You inspire me" she said with a small smile on her face.

He chuckled and said, "You inspire me. I've never had anyone tell me they love me and I'm glad you were the first."

She looked up at him with a shocked sadness. Caressing his cheek, she leaned in, gave him a soft kiss, and then said, "I do love you Harry Potter, very much."

They rejoined the ball and slipped into a slow dance, pressing against one another, not so much hormone driven, but in affection, caring and love. Hermione and Viktor drifted by, a hands width between them and she smiled at Harry who smiled back, they were both having a wonderful time and deserved this happiness after all the trials and tribulations of their first three years. As the night ended, Harry walked Gabrielle back to the carriages. They ambled down the lawn, not wanting the night to end. With a smile Harry led her toward the lake and they sat on the bench where they had first sat that early November night. He wrapped his arms around her and they sat in blissful silence.

"I never want to lose you Gabi."

She shifted in his arms and said, "That is one thing you don't have to worry about, ever."

Harry nodded into her hair and said, "What about after you leave? And next year? I love you and I don't want to be without you."

She was silent for a minute, thinking and said, "This summer, come stay with us. During the summer months we stay at White Rock, our chateau, near the Mediterranean. There is more than enough room. I will write to Mama tomorrow morning to ensure her acceptance."

Harry smiled at the thought of his girlfriend in a bikini. Shaking his head he said, "That sounds wonderful. Can I just floo there?" She nodded and they considered the matter settled.

A while later, a shadow loomed in the darkness, "Mr. Potter, Miss Delacour, it is time to turn in for the evening" Professor McGonagall said. Nodding at the inevitability of the dawn, he escorted her back to the carriage, and after an extensive and thorough parting, he made his way back to Gryffindor tower.

.oOo.

The next morning he heard about the shouting match between Ron and Hermione after the ball. He sat with Hermione for breakfast and asked, "Are you Ok?"

She gave him a half-sad smile and replied, "I'll be fine. I really thought that Ron was my friend, you know? It turns out that he was your friend and just tolerated me." She sniffed into her kippers and said in a very small voice, "I've never had a lot of friends. It's just you now."

Harry wrapped his arm around her as Gabrielle walked up. He caught her eye and nodded for her to sit on the other side of Hermione. She sat and with a concerned tone said, "What is wrong?"

Harry replied, "Ron was an ass last night."

The French girl exhaled loudly and wrapped Hermione in a big hug while she muttered imprecations under her breath. At one point she said something particularly vitriolic and Hermione began laughing through her tears. Wiping her face she said, "I speak French."

Gabrielle laughed and said, "I know. I had to lighten things up somehow, eh?"

At this moment, Professor Dumbledore stopped behind Harry and said, "Mr. Potter, I'd like to see you in my office after you have finished your breakfast, the password is Fizzing Whizzbees."

Harry nodded and the old man walked away. Hermione and Gabrielle crooked their eyebrows and the dark haired boy who could only shrug and return to his breakfast. A few minutes later, he grabbed his bag, patted Hermione on the shoulder and kissed his girlfriend on the cheek before heading up to the Headmaster's office.

After giving the password and trudging up the stairs, he sat in the proffered chair. The Headmaster regarded Harry over his half moon glasses for a moment before cutting to the chase, hoping the direct attack would be advantageous to his cause. "Harry, it has come to my attention that you and the younger Miss Delacour have a romantic relationship, yes?" The pro forma pause was accentuated by the unblinking stare of the old man.

Harry nodded his head and answered, "Yes, sir" wondering how any of this was Dumbledore's business.

Dumbledore responded with a curt nod of his own and said, "Very well then, I must sadly inform you that you will have to break off this relationship today. Are there any questions?"

Harry started to laugh. "Questions sir? I have one. How is my private life any of your concern? Or how about, how do you have any authority over me outside of scholastic issues? Those are the questions that come immediately to mind, sir." Now Harry waited and stared at the old man with an unblinking gaze.

Dumbledore swore internally. He had no authority over Harry in this arena and he knew it. He had hoped to bull rush the boy and intimidate him into obedience. That apparently was not happening. Adopting his grandfatherly air, he said with a smile, "Harry..."

"Baron Potter"

Dumbledore blinked. _How did he find out about that?_ "Excuse me?"

"My Lord would be appropriate as well. Whichever you prefer would be acceptable, _Headmaster_." The young man's stress of "Headmaster" did not go unnoticed.

"Very well, your Lordship" Dumbledore continued. This was not going at all as he expected. "I think it best if you sever connections with young Miss Delacour."

Harry did not reply, merely stared at Dumbledore.

After fifteen seconds or so, Dumbledore said, "Do you have anything to say, my Lord?"

Harry waited to the count of ten before saying, "I'm still waiting for you to answer my questions, Headmaster."

After another stretch of silence, Harry slapped his hand on his leg and stood. Reaching for his bag, he said, "Very well, I'll see you later, sir."

Dumbledore was shocked, he'd never been so summarily dismissed by anyone, much less a student. "You are not dismissed, Harry."

Without turning, Harry said, "I am Baron Potter and will be addressed as such, Headmaster. If you have nothing further to discuss of a _scholastic_ nature, I'll bid you good day" and walked out of the office.

Harry stormed out of the Headmaster's office. On the outside he looked calm but a swirling mixture of fear and rage was roaring inside of him. _How dare he? No one is going to take my Gabi from me!_ He stalked back to Gryffindor tower, through the empty common room and up to his dormitory. He threw his bag in the general direction of his bed and grabbed his broom. Without thinking, he waved his hand at the window and it jumped open. He smoothly mounted his broom and shot out the window like a bolt.

Within seconds he was at top speed and shooting over the castle. He aggressively slalomed through the towers, diving into courtyards, and skimmed the lawn as he shot toward the lake like a flash of light. Cruising at over one hundred miles an hour, three feet over the lake, he kicked up a rooster tail as he crossed and re-crossed the lake numerous times. The fourth time, he saw a familiar blond figure ahead of him on the shore so he slowed down and landed next to her. Without saying anything, he pulled her in his arms and held her close to his chest, willing her to stay and not fade away. Her muffled voice said, "Cher, you are scaring me, what has happened?"

Without letting her go, he told her what had transpired in the Headmaster's office: the old man's demands and Harry's barely civil refusal. At the end, Gabrielle was enraged, "That _batard_! How dare he try and take you from me!" By now she was storming up and down in a pacing pattern that threatened to wear a rut in the lake shore.

Having calmed down somewhat, Harry gently took her in his arms and said, "He can't take me from you. No one can. I am yours, remember?"

Her face softened and she cupped his cheek in her hand. She gave him a soft kiss and then said, "I am Gabrielle Delacour, the beloved of Harry Potter and I will show that old man why the daughter of Henri Delacour should not be crossed." She turned and strode away, toward the carriages and beckoned over her shoulder at him. Harry had never seen this commanding, imperious side of her and it made him laugh. It was so incongruous with the intelligent, joyful, sensual young woman he had fallen in love with.

They entered the antechamber of the magically enlarged carriage and Gabrielle gestured to a waiting room saying, "Wait for me there love, I shouldn't be too long." Harry went and sat, picking up a French language version of _Quidditch Today_ and found he could understand quite a bit of what he was reading. He decided to concentrate and use the periodical as a distraction from his moronic Headmaster, as well as, an opportunity to practice his French. Ten minutes later, Harry was deep in a discussion comparing the brute force attack of the Hawkshead Formation vs. the subtly of a Porskoff Ploy when Gabrielle returned, Fleur and Madame Maxime in tow.

Harry stood at the ladies entrance and after the suitable pleasantries were exchanged, Gabrielle wrapped her arm in Harry's and said to the other two, "Headmaster Dumbledore has overstepped his bounds and attempted to interfere with the relationship between me and my bond-mate."

Madame Maxime's eyes widened, but Fleur was unsurprised. _Gabi must have already told her sister_, Harry thought to himself.

Madame Maxime mumbled something under he breath that sounded a lot like "old idiot" before she gestured to the seats and said, "Monsieur Potter, would you please recount the incident for us all?"

After he recounted the story, including his retreat into formality with the Headmaster, which made Fleur smile broadly, Madame Maxime closed her eyes and leaned back in her oversized chair thinking for a minute. Without moving, she said, "My Lord, did he, at any point, use any kind of magic on you?"

Harry frowned to himself and ran through the memory quickly, trying to remember if there was any surreptitious wand work. "Not that I am aware of, Madame. And please, call me Harry. Only people that annoy me call me 'My Lord'," he finished with a smile.

The half-giantess smiled and said, "Very well, Harry." After another pause, she said, "Is the Headmaster aware of your bond-mate status?"

Harry said, "Not from me" and looked at Gabrielle. She huffed in disdain and shook her head in negation.

The Headmistress pursed her lips and then said, "I am afraid that I can only upbraid Albus for being an old fool and overstepping his bounds. I would suggest you inform him, in writing, of your bonded status and copy the Deputy Headmistress. That should extinguish these lunatic attempts to separate the two of you."

Fixing an intense gaze on Gabrielle and then shifting to Fleur, she said, "Ladies, I would recommend against trying to co-opt your father to act officially at this stage, as that could cause significant harm between Britain and France. As of right now, Headmaster Dumbledore can convincingly claim that he was merely trying to prevent the heartache of a student, nothing more."

When all three teens snorted in disgust at the statement, Maxime smiled broadly, "And I believe the statement as much as you do. However, he can make that claim, so I would advise against formal action." She became thoughtful and tapped her finger on her large shapely chin. "Ladies, I need to speak to Baron Potter alone, please wait outside."

Gabrielle shot Harry a worried look which he tried to quell by squeezing her hand. After the door closed, Maxime said, "My Lord, put aside that I am the Delacour ladies Headmistress and consider me an advisor in this situation." At Harry's nod, she continued, "How serious are you regarding your relationship with Gabrielle?"

Harry got a half smile on his face which answered her question, but he put voice to his expression and said, "When we are of age, we shall marry."

She nodded back at him and said, "Bon. I assume you have told Gabrielle of your intentions and she is amenable to this course of action?"

At Harry's blushing nod, she nodded and continued, "Therefore, I would recommend that you claim your heritage and become an emancipated minor. At that point, the Headmaster has little to no influence over you legally."

She paused, considering her words. "If you desire" she said slowly, "You may wish to enter into a marriage contract with Monsieur Delacour at that point. You will be head of your house and can enter into such a contract. Since it is a magically binding contract, no one can break it, nor force it to be broken."

Harry sat there, contemplating. None of what was being discussed was new to him. He'd been thinking about marrying Gabrielle for the last few weeks and there was no objection in his heart or head. He did have a nagging voice that sounded like Hermione at her worst that was saying "You're only fourteen and have known this girl for two and a half months!" but his heart ran roughshod over the fear.

Responding to the Headmistress, he said, "Thank you Madame for your frankness. I admit to being woefully ignorant as to the processes regarding marriage contracts and will acquaint myself with them in the near future. Also, I was unaware that I could claim emancipation. I will have to research that as well."

Maxime nodded and said, "Harry, my Charms Mistress is well versed in French customs and I am sure that she would be willing to explain to you and Gabrielle about French Marriage contracts and the like."

Harry nodded and said, "Many thanks, Madame. I have a strong feeling that Headmaster Dumbledore would never have told me any of this."

Maxime laughed a merry laugh, incongruous with her large frame. "Non, Harry, I doubt he would. Albus likes his secrets."

Harry smiled and recognizing that the interview was over, thanked her again and moved to the door. Opening it, he saw Gabrielle pause in mid pace while Fleur watched her with an amused expression while sitting in a chair. Harry smiled at his girlfriend and held out his hand. She came to him and said, "So what was…" he stopped her midsentence.

"Is there someplace private we can go discuss this? I'd rather not go to the castle." She nodded and Harry looked to Fleur, who was just standing from her chair and said, "Fleur, do you have some time to join us? I'd like to get your opinion as well."

Surprised, the elder Delacour followed the two as they went into an unused classroom, shut the door and put up a privacy ward. As they settled in, Gabrielle right next to Harry, he looked at his girlfriend and said, "Madame Maxime asked me my intentions for you" which raised the eyebrows of both girls. He counted to five, seeing Gabi's face begin to get red and he said with a smile, "I told her that when we are of age we will marry."

Gabrielle's red face paled then flushed and she pulled him close while whispering, "I love you."

They broke apart when Fleur cleared her throat and said in an amused, dry tone, "Well, since that is all settled…"

Harry laughed and then recounted the rest of the discussion while the Delacour sisters listened intently. After he finished he admitted, "I am not as astute in the customs or laws as you two are and wanted to get your opinions."

Gabrielle paused then let out a tinkling laugh and covered her mouth at Fleur's glare. Harry looked at his girlfriend and she said, "When we were little, Fleur told me that a hero would fall in love with me and that I should get him in bed as fast as possible so as not to lose him." She grinned at her sister and continued, "We were maybe five and eight at the time."

Fleur blushed and said, "In my defense, when I said that I did not realize that 'sleeping together' meant anything more than just that." In an undertone she hissed, "You promised you would never tell that story" which caused all three to laugh.

When they calmed down, Fleur said, "I can tell you that I think Papa will be amenable to a contract when you get emancipated. I know Gabrielle has told our parents of your bonding and that at first they were… hesitant. After I sent a few letters describing my observations of the two of you and Gabrielle's repeated letters, I think you won't have too much trouble there."

She paused, thinking. "Also, since you are coming to stay the summer, that will also help them to see that you are not just a little boy" she said in an apologetic tone. She and Harry had become friends since Harry and Gabrielle had started dating and she felt bad for her casual insult of him on Halloween night.

Harry nodded at the spoken and unspoken statements and smiled at the older girl. In an undertone, he reached out his hand and took hers saying, "Thank you, Fleur."

She smiled brilliantly and gave Harry a hug saying, "I will now leave you two. I'm sure you have many things to discuss." She gave Gabrielle a hug and whispered something in her ear causing Gabi to laugh, blush and then hit her sister on the arm saying "Fleur!"

When the door closed on the laughing elder Delacour, Harry turned to his girlfriend and said, "So…"

Gabrielle looked at him with a somewhat fearful expression and said, "Are you serious?" At his confused expression she continued in a small voice, "About the marriage contract and marrying me when we are of age?"

Harry looked at her for a long moment, savoring her beauty and her person before saying, "Yes. Emphatically, yes."

Her face softened and she smiled as a tear dropped down her cheek. She held her arms out and Harry filled them with a gentle hug, just holding the two of them together in the storm of their emotion.

She laid her head on his shoulder and relaxed into his arms as he sat on his chair with her in his lap. After a few minutes, she said, "So emancipation first then contract."

Harry shook his head and she looked up at him, confused. With a small smile he said, "Lots of kissing, emancipation, then contract."

With a somewhat feral smile, she turned, straddled him and said, "As my Lord wishes" and the mutual ravishment began.

.oOo.

An hour later, they were walking through the halls of Hogwarts holding hands on their way to the library when they heard from behind them, "Harry!"

They turned and saw Hermione bustling up to them with a thundercloud expression. She opened her mouth to begin a rant when Harry said, "Come with us and I'll explain the very valid reason I've missed class today."

As they walked, Harry recounted his meeting with the headmaster to exclamations from Hermione. "He didn't!" "Oh, Harry, you shouldn't have said that." "Why, that old goat!"

The last caused Harry to stop in mid stride and look at Hermione with affection and say, "I'm so proud of you" while an amused Gabrielle looked on. As Hermione looked at him in exasperation, he said, "Standing up to authority and all, it's wonderful." Gabrielle began to laugh and Hermione gave a rueful smile as they went to the library.

After another three hours, they had the process for Harry to claim his emancipation, a thick sheaf of notes on marriage contracts and another book on French Wizarding customs tucked under Harry's arm.

I turned out that all Harry had to do was have his parents will read in his presence, and then hold out his wand and say "I claim my right as Head of the House of Potter" and he was magically emancipated. Wizarding law was very clear on this point. Harry wrote a letter to Gringotts requesting an appointment for the 16th, which was the next Hogsmeade weekend. He would meet Gabrielle at the Three Broomsticks and Floo to the Leaky Cauldron. Hermione wanted to come as well, but Fleur advised that she probably wouldn't be let in. Goblins had an extraordinary ability in being able to see magical bonds, so they would be able to see the bond between Harry and Gabrielle and allow her in for the reading.

The next day, Harry, Gabrielle and Hermione sat down in the study room of the Beauxbatons carriage to write out the letters for Dumbledore and McGonagall. Hermione had brought three books to use as reference and after an hour and a half, they had a letter that they felt would be good enough.

Harry and Gabrielle went to the Owlry while Hermione returned the books to the library. Taking their time coming down, Harry told Gabrielle about Hedwig. How she was his first real friend. She'd suffered at the Dursley's right alongside him and never really complained. Gabrielle let out a sigh and murmured something like, "I will kill them one day," as they wended their way through the ancient castle to the great hall for dinner.

At dinner, two owls winged in and landed in front of Dumbledore and McGonagall. Both took their letter and opened them, reading while they ate. McGonagall was obviously the faster reader as her eyebrows almost flew off her forehead and she looked right at Harry. She stood and scampered over to the Gryffindor table before the Headmaster could even rise and said, "Potter, Delacour, follow me."

Almost running to keep up, Harry and Gabi followed the older witch to her office. When they entered, she sealed the door and put up two privacy charms. Her lips were as thin as Harry had ever seen them and before either teen could say anything, McGonagall spat, "What did he do?"

Harry was nonplussed, and Gabrielle only said, "The Headmaster?"

McGonagall nodded and looked back at Harry. Shrugging, he related the episode in the Headmaster's office, the whole time watching his head of house get angrier. Taking a few calming breaths, she said, "Mr. Potter, Miss Delacour; I understand that the Veela bond once accepted by the male is, in effect, a magical betrothal. Since there is no Marriage Contract in place between your families, you will not be apportioned co-habitating quarters at this time. However, I, as your head of house" she looked at Harry, "Will give you some leeway on being out of the tower after hours only if you are returning from the Beauxbatons carriages."

Turning on her heel, she paced back and forth a few times before saying, "I cannot speak for the Headmaster, but I will tell you that his behavior was abhominable. I will discuss the situation, inform him of my permission for you and…entreat him… to stop pursuing his previous course of action."

She paused and said in a less strident tone, "I cannot guarantee anything, of course. Professor Dumbledore is a strong willed man, and my superior. Please, if he attempts to coerce you in any way" looking at Gabrielle she said, "Either of you. Please come to me. If need be, we can take drastic steps."

.oOo.

The three friends were sitting in the Gryffindor common room later that week when Gabrielle sat up and said, "Harry, get your egg."

With a cheeky grin he said, "Yes, dear."

The two girls laughed as he went upstairs to the boys dormitory. When he returned, Hermione said, "Let's use an open classroom" and headed out the portrait hole.

A few minutes later the three were sitting in Charms classroom #2, covering their ears as the egg screeched at them. Shutting the egg with a snap, Harry shook his head and said, "Ouch, that's not very helpful."

Hermione and Gabrielle laughed. Hermione got a far away look on her face when she said, "No, it's not." Pausing, she looked at Gabrielle, who also got a far away look.

The French girl said, "So we need to translate it."

Hermione bounced out of her seat and said, "Yes!" Pacing back and forth she was muttering to herself as Gabrielle held her head in her hands.

Harry looked back and forth between the two girls before saying, "Maybe it's just too loud, or too loud and too slow at the same time."

Gabrielle jumped out of her chair and kissed him thoroughly. She pulled back and gave him a big smile saying, "You are a genius!"

Turning to Hermione she said, "Let's try muffling it. Blankets, water, snow. The like."

Hermione nodded enthusiastically and began conjuring blankets and a tub of water. The blanket didn't help, but when they dunked it in a tub of water, Harry doffed his glasses, took a big breath and stuck his head in. Almost a full minute later he pulled his dripping head out and took the proffered towel from Hermione.

After drying off, the girls were shocked at the look of fear on his face. "I could understand it, and I don't like it one bit." Looking to Gabrielle he said, "It's about you."

.oOo.

The 16th came and without a hitch, the young lovers flooed to Diagon Alley wearing their best. For Harry, that was still very substandard. When Gabrielle saw him, she gave him a soft kiss and said, "We will also spend some time shopping for new clothes for you my love. You deserve to have quality clothes that fit you."

Harry nodded, a little ashamed that he was in this situation to begin with. Recognizing what he was thinking, Gabrielle hooked her arm in his and said, "Love, did you subject yourself to a loveless, abusive life since you were one year old?"

Seeing her point, he smiled at her and said, "Thank you" gave her a small peck and they strolled down the alley to the bank. Inside, they were shown to a private conference room when Snagrat, the head of the inheritance division entered with an accordion file under his arm. Harry rose and bowed to the Goblin who returned his bow. Gabrielle rose with grace and dignity and Snagrat was introduced to her.

Snagrat made a flourish of bows and said, "Mr. Potter, shall we get to business?" Harry nodded and Snagrat produced a thin sheaf of papers. After the reading, Harry was stunned. He was supposed to go to Sirius if his parents died, which was unsurprising, but they explicitly had outlined that Harry was not to go to the Dursley's.

Gabrielle held his hand and stroked his back as she could tell he was upset. The will stipulated some charitable legacies, one for Hogwarts Quidditch teams, one for a muggle born scholarship and a disbursement for Remus Lupin and Peter Pettigrew for 100,000 Galleons each. Everything else was left for Harry. The Potter Trust managed the bulk of the family fortune, which Harry could not touch without approval of the Board of Directors, but his personal fortune was still substantial.

Harry frowned at the end of the reading. To get it out of the way, he stood and said, "I claim my right as Head of House Potter" which caused a bright flash of light. Harry retook his seat and Gabrielle's hand saying, "Has this will been read before today?" At Snagrat's negative response, Harry said, "I see. Please disburse all the money to the named legacies including Remus Lupin. Peter Pettigrew is believed to be dead, but if he does attempt to claim this money, will be considered a felon and should be apprehended. Can Gringotts perform this service for me? I would be most…appreciative."

Snagrat smiled and said, "Gringotts would be most happy to assist you Lord Potter. Is there anything else?" Since Harry had recently been updated on the complete holdings of the family, he did not need the folder that Snagrat had, but took it anyway.

They made a quick run to his new vault to withdraw a large sack full of coins. Harry searched out what he was looking for, found it in the back and shoved it in his pocket quickly before grabbing a bag and filling it with gold. Standing there, amongst the gold, Harry looked at his girlfriend and was struck dumb. The way the light that was reflecting off the gold he couldn't help himself. He strode over to her, took her in his arms and kissed her forcefully. Pulling back, both gasping, he said, "You are a goddess. My goddess."

She smiled widely and ran her hand through his hair before kissing him languidly. "Come cher, let's do some shopping."

Three hours and four hundred Galleons later, they were sitting in a small bistro in the alley having a late lunch with all Harry's purchases shrunk in Gabrielle's purse. Harry was wearing an outfit that had sparked a hungry look on his girlfriend's face and afterwards they had enjoyed burning the Dursley rags in a fireplace. They were talking about the summer and Gabrielle was telling Harry about her family's chateau and the surrounding areas while he stroked the sapphire ring on her hand absently.

She told him of the private beach and the pool, the woods and the formal gardens. They usually had dinner on the veranda when the weather cooperated and sometimes on her father's sailboat. Sailing was his hobby and he co-opted his family as his crew. "Expect Papa to get you in sailing togs and out on the boat within days of your arrival," she said with a smile.

Feeling warm at the idea of her family accepting him, he said, "I'd love it." He paused and said, "Do you think they will accept me? After all, I've pretty much laid my claim to their fourteen year old daughter."

She crooked an eyebrow at him and said, "No, I've laid my claim to you. Mama was less than pleased, but Papa understood. The letters were a bit warm for a while, but not quite howlers. Mama is now excited to meet you as is Papa. He may joke with you and play the protective father, but he is really a big teddy bear."

"So says his youngest daughter."

Gabrielle shrugged and they rose to go back to school. Stepping out of the fireplace at the Three Broomsticks, quite a few people pointed and made comments. Technically, he should not have left the general Hogsmeade area. Now that he was emancipated, the point was moot. Walking back to Hogwarts, Harry said to Gabrielle, "A Galleon I get called to Dumbledore's office today."

She laughed, shook her head and said, "No bet, love."

He laughed in return and they held hands and chatted. She was telling him about the shopping excursion she was planning in Nice over the summer and he was teasing her about seeing her in a bikini. Amused at her blush, he said, "Am I teasing too close to home?"

She made an indistinct gesture and when he just looked at her, she said in a low voice, "I only want to dress that way for you. I don't want other men to see me that way. Remember what I said about being seen as an object?"

Harry's laugh died in his throat and he stopped in the middle of the path. Looking her in the eye, he said, "I was just teasing, but if it makes you uncomfortable, I don't care what you wear, so long as you are with me."

She smiled at him and said, "We'll see what I wear at the pool or our private beach. Maybe you'll see something you like?"

Kissing her briefly, he said, "I'm sure I will" and they continued the walk in lighter moods. As they turned the corner and saw the front doors to the castle, Harry said to her, "You owe me a Galleon." She laughed sarcastically and an air of hostility surrounded her as they approached the old Headmaster who was sitting on a bench next to the doors.

Harry and Gabrielle moved as if they didn't even notice him and they had just passed him when Dumbledore said, "My Lord, I need to discuss something with you."

Cursing under his breath, Harry maintained his hold on Gabrielle's hand, turned to the old man and said, "Yes, sir?"

The headmaster glanced at the blond, gave up trying to pry her away and said, "Did you leave the Hogsmeade area today?"

Harry nodded and said, "Yes, I did."

Surprised at the forthright answer, Dumbledore covered his surprise in a twinkling eyed laugh and said, "Then I'm afraid I shall have to punish you, my Lord."

Harry laughed on the inside and squeezed his girlfriend's hand. Adopting a thoughtful expression, he said, "But I thought that adults could come and go from the castle as they pleased." He paused and then tacked on, "Sir."

Dumbledore smiled to cover his uncertainty where the young peer was going with this line and said, "That is true."

Harry brightened and said, "Well, then we don't have a problem" and moved to walk past the Headmaster.

Dumbledore shot his hand out and grasped Harry by the shoulder. Moving faster than the old man thought possible, Harry twisted out of the old man's grasp and wrenched the Headmaster's arm rather painfully while hissing at him, "Never touch me again."

Dumbledore gasped as the ligaments in his 152-year-old arm stretched painfully. Harry let go and Dumbledore rubbed his wrist and elbow and said, "My apologies, I wanted to understand your statement and you were rather rudely walking away. You are not an adult, so you will be docked fifty points and a month of detention."

Harry smirked and said, "I am an emancipated minor, Headmaster. I have every right to leave the castle whenever I see fit. I assume that the 'punishment' you wish to levy is now moot." When the Headmaster just stared at him, Harry nodded and said, "Good. I bid you good day" and swept by with Gabrielle's hand in his own.

After they got a few hallways away, she pulled him into an alcove and said, "You were magnificent!"

Harry sagged against the wall, the adrenalin ebbing from his system. "I just reacted and went with my heart, the minor misdirection helped. Glad it worked out." He laughed and said, "I can't wait to tell Hermione this one."

Gabrielle laughed as well and sauntered saucily up to him, whispering in his ear, "Have I told you how incredibly attractive I find powerful men? Well, powerful, black haired, green eyed men."

Grinning, he said, "No, you haven't."

She kissed his neck, nipping a few time, causing his blood flow to increase significantly. She whispered huskily in his ear, "If you do that again, I won't be responsible for my behavior. I may have to do things to you in public that I'd hoped to only do in private."

With this thought, Harry's mind went blank and they occupied themselves with each other for quite a while.

.oOo.

The rest of the month, they worked on magical forms of surviving underwater. Harry was still very against Gabrielle being his 'Thing you will sorely miss' and let her know every so often that he didn't like it. She would just shush him and get back to her work, squeezing his thigh as she did so. He didn't come out and say it, but he was terrified that something would happen to her in this ridiculous task. He had sought out Fleur on his own and they talked about it, not as competitors, but as two people who loved Gabrielle.

"As I see it, she will be in the lake as my 'Thing you will sorely miss' or yours" Harry had said. "I don't like it at all. I don't trust Dumbledore to ensure her safety."

Fleur nodded, impressed with his response. She had half expected a raging, storming response vice the logical, impassioned person who sat in front of her. "Do you trust our Headmistress?"

Harry paused, thought for a minute and said, "With everything but Gabi's life."

Fleur smiled affectionately, gave him a kiss on the cheek and said, "Good answer Potter." Harry laughed and shook his head. Fleur cut him off, saying, "I know you didn't mean it that way, but it was still an excellent answer. So, what can you really do about the situation? Not much really. Just be as prepared as you can." She hadn't meant to be condescending, but it was there nonetheless.

Harry shook his head, with a haunted look he said, "Something bad is going to happen, Fleur. I can feel it." Fleur moved to comfort him, convinced he was overreacting when he looked her dead in the eye and she froze. Something in his eyes arrested her and made her pause. He said in a flat voice, "Has Gabrielle told you about my 'adventures' here at school?" Fleur frowned and shook her head.

Harry faintly smiled, glad she had kept his confidences and then said, "My first year I encountered Voldemort twice and saved a Philosopher's Stone from him. My second year, again I faced a shade of Voldemort and killed a 60 foot Basilisk with a sword. Granted, I had help from a Phoenix with the Basilisk." Shaking his head from the digression, he continued to his shocked and horrified audience, "Third year I faced over one hundred dementors and my parents' betrayer while having to escape from a werewolf. This year I'm in this bloody tournament."

Seeing he had Fleur's undivided attention, he said, "When I have a bad feeling, most people run for their lives." He paused and then looked at the young woman he hoped would be his sister one day and said, "I can't lose her Fleur."

Nodding dumbly at the open anguish on his face, she held his hand as they tried to think of ideas and plans.

The next day, Harry and Gabrielle were in the library doing homework when Gabrielle threw her hands in the air and began cursing in French. Harry understood most of it and looked at her with an amused expression. She looked at him sheepishly and said, "Gillyweed."

Harry looked back at her blankly at the non-sequitur. Gabrielle assumed her 'explaining pose' and said, "When I was a little girl, I was walking down the beach and I saw a bunch of men diving repeatedly in a certain area of the bay. They had no breathing equipment, but they stayed down for a very long time, half an hour or so. When they came back up, I asked them what they had been looking for when diving. The man told me 'Gillyweed'. When I asked what that was, they bid me be off and I ran home to Mama. When I told her about the men, she laughed and said that Gillyweed is a magical plant that gives you gills and lets you breathe underwater for extended periods." Gabi screwed up her face in apology saying, "I'm sorry I forgot."

With a big smile, Harry said, "Don't worry about it. I'm glad you remembered. I'll ask Neville where we can get some." Talking more to himself than her he said, "Maybe enough to practice with."

Pausing, he said, "I know we've talked about this, but hear me out before you slap me, Ok?" She had an amused expression at this opening and he continued, "I talked to Fleur about the upcoming task. We both agree that you will be the 'Thing we will sorely miss' for one of us."

Her face now turned into a scowl, and he pressed on rapidly, tears forming in his eyes, "I can't lose you Gabi" he whispered. Her scowl quickly faded and tears sprouted in her own eyes. He reached out and grasped her hand desperate to have an anchor to her. "I just can't live without you anymore." Now she enveloped him in her arms, pulling him into her as he fought for control. Her tears wet his hair as they held each other close. She could feel his stuttering breath and he could feel her grip tighten.

Finally, he was able to speak and he said, "I don't trust Dumbledore to keep you safe and I have a horrible feeling that something is going to go terribly wrong and you are going to be hurt or worse. Please be on your guard."

She nodded as he adjusted their embrace so she could rest her head on his shoulder. The sat cuddled up for a bit before he said, "Come on, I'm not going to finish anything here. Let's go for a walk." They gathered up their things and walked about the grounds, just being with each other. Not even an hour before, Harry had been in turmoil bordering on despair, now he felt contentment, peace and even joy in his heart, both due to his feelings about the blond headed witch at his side. Silently, they walked to their bench and sat, watching the sun go down.

.oOo.

The day of the second task arrived and Harry was a bundle of nerves. On the morning of the first task, he, Hermione and Gabrielle had breakfast together. Today he was alone. _She's Ok. They're both Ok. She's Ok. They're both Ok._ This had become his mantra since he woke up, the only thing that kept him from running mad down to the Black Lake and diving in after his love and other best friend.

The Gillyweed had arrived by Owl order two weeks before and Harry had a few practice runs in the shallows of the lake to acclimate to the lake and the effects of the herb. This morning he had two pouches in his pockets, each with a supply of Gillyweed that should support approximately an hour underwater. He choked down some toast and somehow a plate of scrambled eggs managed to find its way into his belly.

Needing to move, he stood and wandered out of the hall to be stopped by Neville Longbottom. With his usual shy manner, Neville said, "Harry, good luck today. I'm sure Gabrielle and Hermione are fine." With a half smile and a nod, he acknowledged the good-hearted young man and began to meander down toward the lake.

He was wondering what was wrong with him this morning and as he sat on 'their' bench he realized what was wrong. He felt bereft, alone and cut off from everyone. It felt as if he had fallen into a bottomless pit. In his fear, he had assumed the worst. That worst was that those two people who meant more than anyone else in the world to him were dead.

Hermione had always been important to him, but since he had met and fallen in love with Gabrielle, he began to understand how much he felt for his bushy haired adopted sister. Now that he did realize how important she was, he held her as precious to him.

Gabrielle, simply put, was his everything. Between the two of them, his world was currently at the bottom of the Black Lake and he would never forgive Dumbledore for this day, even if no one was hurt in the end.

Remembering to cast Hermione's Impervious spell from third year on his watch, he stood and strode around the lake to the platform where the task would start. He had his wand in a holster attached to his right forearm and a diving knife on his left calf, a present from Hermione.

He found Fleur and after seeing her pale face, he realized that Gabrielle was not in the carriages either. He nodded to her in a commitment to get the young woman back. Fleur half nodded and patted his shoulder. They stood close together, drawing strength from each other as Viktor walked up. "Haf you seen Herm-own-inny?" he asked with a look of fear on his face.

Harry shook his head with a scowl and looked at the lake. Krum scowled as well and muttered, "Dis task is monstrous" to which Fleur and Harry could only agree. A few minutes later, Cedric Diggory arrived and then it was time.

Time seemed to shift for Harry. He vaguely heard Bagman's announcements, noticed Fleur disrobing and casting warming charms on herself. He took her cue, disrobed to his bathing trunks, and pulled out the first pouch of Gillyweed. As if in a dream, he heard a loud bang and the other three dove in the water. He consumed his herb, started his stopwatch and followed.

The familiar transformation did not slow him, as he swam with all the power and intensity he could muster. Both Hermione and Gabrielle had taken the last month to teach him to swim as the Dursley's had never considered it. He wasn't going to join the Olympic squad, but was proficient. The webbing on his hands and feet made him even more capable and he shifted to a dolphin stroke to shoot past his competitors.

Vaguely hearing singing like that in the egg, he changed direction to head right for it. He felt nothing but a need, an intensity that was consuming. He had to find her. He had to protect her. He felt a flash of guilt that he wasn't considering Hermione but pushed it aside as irrelevant. He had to find her and pushed himself even harder.

A hand grabbing his right leg jerked himself out of his focused intensity. Looking down, he saw a swarm of Grindylows emerging from the weed of the lake. Without thinking, Harry punched the water demon right on its squashed nose, causing it to release his leg and grab its face in pain. Taking advantage of the distraction, Harry swam away as fast as he could, only noting after he cleared the cloud of the water demons, that the other three champions were in for a fight to get past that obstacle.

His mouth wide open to get as much water over his gills as he could manage, Harry swam with the same single minded intensity as when he played Quidditch. Without realizing it, he swam past the giant squid and out ran it as it reached for him.

Minutes later, the merpeople village came into view. He saw a half dozen mermen and mermaids rise up in a line from the center of the settlement, so he pulled his wand from its holster in preparation. As he continued on, the merpeople merely watched his progress. Mentally shrugging at their unusual behavior he dove into the village, looking in windows as he sped past. Entering the underwater version of a town square he saw four people tied to posts and guarded by ten mermen with tridents and spears.

Without pausing, Harry began casting. Hermione had figured he might need to cast spells underwater, so for a month straight, every night they had drilled on silently casting one spell: the Stunning spell. The red light lanced out again and again and the mermen drifted to the bed of the lake, unconscious. From above, a spear lanced by, scoring a deep furrow on his left shoulder. Grimacing in pain, he looked up and began stunning the merpeople attacking him from above.

A shot of pain in his leg made him pause. A small trident was buried in his left thigh, and he would have screamed if he could as he pulled it out of his leg. Looking around, through the haze of his pain he could see the merpeople began to crowd around. Through a gap, he could see Gabrielle tied to a statue, her head lolling listlessly. Hands began to grasp him as he thought, _I must get to her_, and a pressure began to build within him. In a swirling, boiling rage, his magic exploded out of him, banishing all the merpeople from him.

Feeling a bit woozy, he shook his head and slowly swam over to Gabrielle as his blood began to cloud the water. Unsheathing his dive knife, he cut her free and then looked around and recognized Hermione, Cho Chang and Fleur's best friend, Michelle DuFrey. Not seeing the other champions, he cut all four loose and slowly began to tow them to the surface. He was bleeding quite badly from his wounds by now and getting dizzy as he swam upward. He was seeing spots as he broke the surface and heard Gabrielle and Hermione both shriek, "Harry!" and he slipped into unconsciousness.

.oOo.

With a groan, he awoke. It was nighttime and quiet. He supposed he was in the Infirmary as the ceiling was disturbingly familiar. Reaching out to his right, he found his glasses on his nightstand, after settling them on his head he saw Gabrielle sitting in a chair next to him and leaning on his bed, asleep. Beyond her, he saw Hermione and in beds on his left and right were Viktor, Fleur and Cedric. Frowning, he took stock of his body and found his leg and shoulder were sore, but not painful. He stretched and let out another little groan, waking up Gabrielle.

"Harry?" she whispered. His response was to reach out with his hand for hers. He found her hand, heard her gasp and sob as he gently pulled her on the bed next to him so he could hold her. She cried softly as he held her in relief and gratitude. Maybe the task went as expected, but he had been terrified of losing her.

After five minutes or so, she calmed and held his face in her hands and just looked at him, as if trying to memorize every feature, from the small scar on his left cheekbone to the bit of stubble on his face. He gazed at her in turn, admiring her classical beauty, but also the unique beauty that was his Gabi. He leaned in and gave her a soft kiss saying, "I was so worried. I almost ran mad when I couldn't find you. I knew you were at the bottom of the lake."

She tried to maintain her composure, but after a moment or two, burst into tears again and whispered, "My god, Harry, you almost died. My Harry, oh my Harry" and he pulled her close again. After a bit, he felt her relax in his arms so he shifted in a more comfortable position, wrapping his arm around her from behind and fell asleep holding her. He had a small smile on his face; Madam Pomfrey was going to have a fit.

Fortunately for both of them, Hermione wakened them at sunrise with a sleepy expression on her relieved face. She quietly asked, "How are you?"

Gabrielle did not relinquish her position, so Harry stretched with her in his arms and said, "I actually feel pretty good. Last night I was sore from my wounds, but this morning, I feel tip top."

Hermione nodded, "Madam Pomfrey said you were close to being magically exhausted on top of your wounds and was giving you a new potion that acts like Pepper Up, but keeps you asleep. It was to help you regenerate your magical core faster."

Now it was Hermione's turn to sob as she put her hand in front of her mouth. Harry reached out his arms as Gabrielle scooted over and Hermione flew in his arms. "You were bleeding all over and Viktor, Fleur and Cedric were all unconscious by the shore of the lake. The Grindylows and the squid did a number on them. Cedric's legs were pretty mangled, they aren't sure if he'll walk normally again. Fleur had a bad concussion and Viktor" her tears started again "has a badly broken arm and a mild concussion."

Wiping her face she said, "I have never seen Professor McGonagall so angry. She started yelling at Professor Dumbledore right there. Not for what happened to the champions, but for what could have happened to the hostages. The spell that allowed us to stay underwater only had thirty minutes or so left when you pulled the four of us out of the water. She was irate."

Narrowing his eyes, he said, "How did you all get at the bottom of the lake?"

Gabrielle shook her head and said, "I don't know. I went to sleep in my bed and woke up in the lake with you" to which Hermione nodded in concurrence.

Harry's anger at Dumbledore mounted to rage. Before he had been upset that Gabrielle and Hermione had been involved, but somewhere in the back of his mind he realized that this was part of the tournament and there was no getting around that. This was different.

"Right then" and he disentangled himself from Gabrielle and tried to sit up before she grabbed him and pulled him back down.

"You can kill Dumbledore later, love. Right now you need rest." She added in a low voice, "I need you here."

He couldn't say no to her so he lay there, Gabrielle on his shoulder and Hermione in the chair while the three of them caught up. He told them about his experience in the task, which, while dangerous, was still less so than the Dragon of the first task. Gabrielle checked his shoulder and clucked, "You have a scar, love."

He snorted, "One more for the collection." With a bit of a smirk he said, "Want to check the other one on my thigh?"

She looked at him with a sultry gaze and said, "I'd love to" before they both burst into laughter and Hermione shook her head while she lightly blushed at her two flirtatious friends.

Shortly, Fleur and Viktor awoke and Madam Pomfrey bustled out of her office with pain potions in hand. She narrowed her eyes at Harry and Gabrielle, but he stared resolutely back, brooking nothing from her. The healer looked at him in surprise, nodded in acquiescence and dispensed the pain relievers to all three of the wounded champions.

Fleur looked over at her sister and Harry and said, "Are the two of you Ok?" Harry related what had happened and calmed her when he told her of Michelle's involvement in the task.

Apparently, Fleur had been unconscious since yesterday and was unaware of anything that transpired after the squid beat her against a rock. She became as incensed as Harry when Hermione told her about the end of the life support spell and how the hostages had been effectively kidnapped. She was so irate, she too had to be restrained by Hermione and Gabrielle.

After she calmed, Hermione went to Viktor, took his hand and they conversed in low tones, causing Harry to look to the Delacour sisters and raise his eyebrows in mock surprise. They responded with giggling laughs and the atmosphere lightened somewhat. The five conscious survivors of the second task chatted in low tones for a bit when Professor Dumbledore decided to make an appearance.

Harry and Fleur both reached for their wands, only to be tackled by Gabrielle and Hermione. Viktor slowly got out of his bed, leaving his wand on the nightstand and walked up to the old wizard, Dumbledore watching him with a detached amusement.

Krum stopped a few feet short of the Headmaster, looked him in the eye as if searching for something. Not finding it, he spat in the old man's face and said, "Dat is for involving those who did not enter" and slowly returned to his bed. Hermione was shocked, while Harry, Gabrielle and Fleur were all smiling broadly.

The old man cast a quick Cleansing charm to remove the spittle from his face and said in an almost contrite tone, "I assure you Mr. Krum, at no time were any of the hostages in danger."

Harry and Gabrielle stared in shock at the brass the old man had while Fleur shook her head angrily. "How you can tell such lies, I don't know." At the stunned expression on the old man's face she continued, "Harry has told us what happened in the mer-village and Hermione has told us about the termination of the life support spell. The only reason the four hostages are alive is because Harry fought like a lion for my sister and his friend."

Harry felt warm in his heart to hear Fleur say this, but the warm feeling fled when Dumbledore adopted a small smile and his eyes began twinkling. Furious, he spat, "I don't find anything about this situation amusing Headmaster."

"Nor do I" chimed in Viktor.

Dumbledore held up his hands and said, "All the hostages had timed portkeys that would return them to the surface ten minutes before the end of the life support spell, everything was safe."

Hermione had a confused expression and asked, "What was the portkey, sir?"

A little taken aback, the old man said, "Each of you had a knut in your pocket which I personally charmed as a portkey."

Hermione stood and put her hands in her pockets. Gabrielle took the cue and did the same. Both girls checked all pockets in their jeans and shirts before Gabrielle looked at Hermione. Getting a negative shake from Hermione, the part Veela young woman said, "You are mistaken, _sir_, we have no such portkey in our possession. Neither Miss Granger nor I have changed clothes since the task."

Now Harry was incandescent with rage. He stood and stalked toward the headmaster, "You stupid bastard. You take the people we value most in this world and put them in a task for which they did _not_ volunteer and then you almost kill them. If I had not retrieved all four hostages the other three would have died." By now, he was right in front of the old man who was beginning to look a bit peeved in being told off by a fourteen almost fifteen-year-old wizard.

Adopting a stern expression, Dumbledore said, "I don't have to explain myself to you or anyone else…"

"I believe you do, Headmaster" Harry interrupted. "Otherwise, well" he looked at Viktor and said, "Mr. Krum would you like to do a joint interview? Better yet, Miss Delacour" he looked at Fleur "maybe the three of us should do a joint interview. I'm sure the _International Magical Press_ or some other publication from France or Bulgaria would jump at the opportunity to interview us and get our views on the first Tri-Wizard Tournament to be held in well over one hundred years. What do you think? I'm sure Mr. Diggory would agree with us after he awakens."

Viktor snarled, "I tink dat vould be excellent idea. Boy-Who-Lived, International Quidditch star, and Veela-chick. Yes, I tink the papers vould like to talk to us."

Fleur nodded and with a wicked smile said, "Indeed Baron Potter, I can contact my cousin who is the editor of _Le Magique_. He could probably be in Hogsmeade by this afternoon."

With his back to Dumbledore, Harry suppressed a laugh, crossed his eyes at Fleur and turned back to the Headmaster and said, "I'm sorry, _sir_. I've lost the thread of what you were saying."

Dumbledore turned bright red and spat, "You have my humblest apologies for the danger to the hostages during the second task" spun on his heel and almost ran out of the Infirmary.

Harry snorted in disgust, wavered a bit before being caught by Gabi and she helped him back to bed. "Come love, it's time to get you in bed," she said softly.

Very tired all of a sudden, Harry said with a smile, "I have been waiting for you to say that for quite a while, but I'm sorry, I'm too tired right now."

Gabrielle stopped, stared at him with an open mouth before throwing her head back and laughing heartily. Fleur and Viktor joined her while Hermione just blushed and said, "Harry!"

After a moment, Hermione spoke as if she were wondering aloud, "I doubt that the Headmaster would try to kill us all. It's rather farfetched."

Returning Harry's scowl, she said, "I know you are less than pleased with him Harry, but he isn't a complete idiot. So the question becomes, what happened to the portkeys?" No one had an answer to that question.

.oOo.

Two days later, Harry was released from the clutches of Madam Pomfrey so he and Gabrielle went down to her room in the Beauxbatons carriages. She lay on his shoulder as they cuddled on her bed and chatted. Harry took a deep breath and said, "I'd like to talk to your Charms mistress" Gabrielle tensed, "and discuss Marriage contracts. Would you be Ok with that?" He had wanted to bring this up ever since he woke from the second task, but just today had built up the courage to ask.

Without lifting her head she said, "Really? I just…I still find it hard to believe that you love me." Now Harry tensed in her arms. Feeling his response, she said, "No, don't misunderstand, I just have always wondered if a man would love me for who I am and I am still stunned that you do love me for who I am. That's all. To answer your question, yes, I'd like to join you and talk to Madame LeCroix about Marriage contracts."

Harry pulled her close and with a relieved smile said, "Don't get me wrong. I find you beautiful, sexy and incredibly attractive" here she raised an amused eyebrow at him and he continued, "but I love you for the person you are. For your kindness to a young man in distress, for your sense of humor, for your selflessness, for your quick mind and quicker wit." The whole time he spoke, he face softened until she had tears in her eyes.

"Mon amour" she whispered and kissed him passionately.

Two days later, as spring was beginning to peek out of the cold and gloom of winter, Harry and Gabrielle sat down with the elderly widow who taught Charms for Beauxbatons. After the introductions were made, they all sat in Madame LeCroix's comfortable office while she poured coffee for them.

"Now," the professor said in a kindly voice, "Madame Maxime has informed me that you wish to understand Marriage Contracts as they are arranged and conducted in France, is this correct, Monsieur le Baron?"

Harry nodded and set his coffee on the table in front of him. "Yes, this is correct, and please, call me Harry or even Mr. Potter." After a nod of the head by the professor, Harry said, "I will be contacting Monsieur Delacour in the near future regarding Gabrielle". He looked to her and found her beaming at him; he reached out and took her hand.

The Charms mistress raised her eyebrows and said, "Of course, but at your age, it is customary to include a delayed activation clause for the contract until the age of 21 or sometimes even 25 so that the couple can ensure that their prospective marriage partner is to their liking."

Gabrielle shook her head in annoyance at giving out their secrets and said, "Madame, Monsieur Potter is my bond-mate."

With a look of realization, Madame LeCroix said, "Ah, my apologies. The delay need not be included at all then." Furrowing her brow, she said, "Monsieur Potter, are you on good terms with your head of house?"

Harry chuckled, said, "Maybe we need to provide you a bit of background", and over the course of the next ten minutes explained his and Gabrielle's positions.

Once they all had a good understanding, Madame LeCroix explained some of the major tenants of the standard French Marriage contract. "The opening section is an obligatory discussion of marriage and the permanence of the relationship. The second paragraph usually details the terms of the dowry. In most situations the dowry of a wealthy bride-to-be is gold. In your case, you may want to consider heirlooms or even property. In the case of property, depending on its worth, the deed transfer may not happen until the death of the signator, so it is really a peek into the will of the bride's parents. The contract will merely transfer the primary use of the property, be it a primary residence or a summer home to the newly married couple. In the case of heirlooms, it is not unusual for the pieces to be transferred the day after the wedding.

"After that, there is what I call the 'miscellaneous' section. Family alliances are spelled out here, political alliances as well. Given that Henri Delacour is a powerful politician in France, expect to see language there, especially given your position on your Wizengamot and your title. Be prepared to align yourself with France for the foreseeable future with your vote."

Pausing to think, she tapped her fingers on the arm of her chair. "Ah, also, children. Since the Delacours only have daughters, Monsieur Delacour may want you to continue his family name if you have multiple sons. I defer to you, my dear" she looked at Gabrielle "to guide this issue."

They talked for another fifteen minutes about the ins and outs that should be expected when Madame LeCroix said with delicacy, "Monsieur Potter, Madame Maxime did mention that you had an unfortunate encounter with the your Headmaster. With your permission, I will check you for any magic done to your person."

Harry paused for a minute and then assented. Madame LeCroix proceeded to cast multiple detection charms on him, explaining their purpose as she went. She found four tracking charms that she dispelled and then taught Harry and Gabrielle how to cast the detection spell themselves, so they could inspect their belongings at their leisure. At the end, she paused, said, "One more", began a long complicated incantation, and associated wand movement. Harry glowed purple at the conclusion. She frowned at the result and performed the test again with the same purple glow at the end.

She sat down and said, "Monsieur Potter, the last test I performed on you had some rather disturbing results." She paused as if trying to gather her thoughts before saying, "Apparently, your magical core has a restriction, a block on it that inhibits you from accessing your full power capability."

Thoughts flashed through Harry. _I'm an orphan who grew up with muggles. Either my parents did this, or someone here at Hogwarts. But who? And why?_ His grip on Gabrielle's hand intensified and she began to stroke his hand and arm, whispering nothings to him to try to calm him. Eventually the anger and fear began to dissipate. He smiled for Gabrielle and said to Madame LeCroix, "What do we do now?"

The elderly witch said, "Well, first we get you to a healer and together we can relieve you of this block. If done haphazardly it could be fatal." Now Gabrielle's hand crushed his and he tried to calm her down.

Harry nodded and said, "Very well, can we use the Beauxbatons healer and do this now?" At Madame LeCroix's query, he replied coldly, "I don't want to use Madam Pomfrey because she most likely knew of this and did nothing. I do not trust her to perform her duties in my best interest." Nodding, the Charms mistress led the way to the Infirmary and Monsieur LeClerc, the healer.

After a few words, with Madame LeCroix, he approached Harry and asked permission to run some tests on him. After ten minutes, he confirmed Madame LeCroix's assessment and bade Harry take a seat. "We must perform certain calculations based on your current magical index, your estimated total magical index, height, weight and so on. It should take thirty minutes or so. If you'd like to relax here, feel free but please, do not eat anything. When we release the block, you will most likely feel nauseous and well…" he gave a small smile and a shrug which Harry took as "I don't want you making a mess in my infirmary."

Comforted by the man's forthrightness, he lay down on a bed with Gabrielle beside him. She whispered to him, "Why is it always you, my love?"

Harry gave a short laugh and held her close. "It does always seem to be me doesn't it?" After a pause he said, "What worries me is I don't know who did this or why. When we get finished, if I am incoherent, please ask Madame LeCroix if someone could do this to me again and I wouldn't notice." With a bit of a tremor in his voice he said, "It's a bit scary that someone could do this and I didn't notice." He pulled her closer, she hooked her leg over his legs, and they lay there, taking strength and comfort from each other.

They didn't have to wait too long, as Healer LeClerc exited his office holding a clipboard and Madame LeCroix with a tray filled with potions. Gabrielle sat on the chair to Harry's right while the Healer and professor sat on his left. "Monsieur Potter" the healer began, "This is a multi-stage process, for which you will have to be conscious, I'm afraid." Harry grimaced at the pain implied at that statement as LeClerc continued, "First, we will administer several of these potions, which will impair your bodies healing ability. This will allow us to magically fracture the block on your core. If we did not impede your healing ability, the block would heal itself before we could remove it. Then we will immobilize you for your own protection."

Harry nodded, grateful that the process was being explained like this, it helped ease a lot of his fear. Gabrielle was holding his hand and stroking his arm on the other side, a tangible calming presence for him. "Once we have lowered your bodies healing ability we will then begin casting spells to fracture the block.

"This will be quite painful. It will be plain to all when we are successful, as you will have a release of magic that we all will feel, similar to a muggle water dam failing. At that point, we will give you some pain relief potion that will take the edge off the pain as we remove the immobilization. We will need you responsive as we then proceed to magically remove the shattered remnants of the block. You will feel various 'pieces' of the shattered block as a tangible presence in your chest that we will remove. Once that is complete, we will give you a sleeping potion and restore your bodies' healing ability." The healer paused, evaluated his patient and said, "Do you have any questions?"

Harry shook his head and took the first few potion vials; of course they tasted like liquefied rancid horseflesh. The healer motioned Gabrielle away, she gave Harry a kiss and stepped back. After a quick Petrification Spell, the process continued until he heard LeClerc say, "We will now fracture the block, Monsieur Potter. This will be painful."

Painful was an understatement as agony lanced through his chest and down his arms and legs. It felt like his bones were melting and his organs swelling to the bursting point. Just when he thought he would go mad, the pain swiftly ebbed away, and if he could, he would have laid there, whimpering.

Suddenly there was a different type of pressure in him, similar to what he felt at the bottom of the lake. It built quickly and then exploded out of him in a non-painful way. His body relaxed as the body bind was lifted and he sighed in relief. The entirety of his body ached profusely, but, strangely, he felt better despite the pain. He immediately recognized the fractured pieces of the block in his chest, just as LeClerc had described.

LeClerc whispered, "Harry, how many pieces do you feel in your chest?" After concentrating for a moment, Harry held up four fingers. Nodding, LeClerc and Madame LeCroix went to work. Forty minutes later, the two exhausted adults sagged into seats as a tear stained Gabrielle fed Harry a dreamless sleep potion.

He woke up the next morning with a host of people around his bed. The first face he looked for was his Gabi. She was there, right next to the bed, her head on her hand trying desperately to stay awake, her position obviously won from being there all night. Hermione was a foot or two behind her, asleep in a chair. Professor McGonagall was talking to Madame Maxime and Healer LeClerc with a tall, bald black man listening in and taking notes. Fleur, Viktor and a now conscious Cedric were chatting while sitting on a bed across the way. Cedric was actually sitting in a wheelchair while the other two sat on the bed.

Returning his gaze to his girlfriend, he smiled and said, "Morning" to catch her attention.

With no fanfare, she gave him her megawatt smile and slowly lowered herself to give him a kiss. After a few moments she broke away, whispered, "You must stop this, I won't live to see thirty at this rate", and gave him a slow, firm hug.

Professor McGonagall now said, "Welcome back, Mr. Potter. I've been telling Madame Maxime, Monsieur LeClerc and Auror Shacklebolt here some of your adventures the last three years." Both the men were shaking their heads in wonder while the Deputy Headmistress said, "We are not sure, but it would have been possible for Professor Quirrel, while possessed by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, to have bound your magical core in your first year, probably while you slept." Harry nodded at the idea, it sounded plausible enough. She continued, "We will never know for sure, but that is one possible explanation."

She paused and in a softer and more concerned tone he had ever heard her use said, "How are you feeling?"

Harry shifted a bit and said, "Not bad. I'm pretty tired still, but not bad."

Monsieur LeClerc sidled up on the side of the bed opposite Gabrielle and began some diagnostics, muttering as he went. "Good, vital signs are all stable…magical core solid and recharging…_Mon Dieu!_" he exclaimed at the end.

Harry just sighed and said, "Yes?"

LeClerc ran the spell three more times and sat down on the bed next to his patient heavily. Waving his hand, he said, "Monsieur Potter, the Murchison Magical Index was originally designed for adults so the results for those in the midst of puberty can sometimes be misleading. For example, a young male at fifteen can be at just the cusp of developing an adult magical core where a female at fifteen can have a fully developed core."

Harry nodded in understanding and the healer continued, "Well the average adult wizard has a score of 100 and an average adult witch has a score of 96. Before the procedure, your score was a respectable 71, but now…" he trailed off. Casting a quick privacy ward, the healer said, "These scores can be private, you see."

Harry motioned for LeClerc to stop and pulled Gabrielle inside the boundaries of the ward. At LeClerc's amused expression, Harry said, "I have no secrets from my bond-mate, please, continue."

Nodding in understanding, LeClerc said, "Your score now is 193."

Harry's eyes grew wide, his mouth dropped open and he looked at Gabrielle whose eyes were shining with laughter. "Only you, my love" she whispered in his ear.

He laughed. She was right. With everything in his life, it was only fitting that he had extraordinary magical strength to fight with. Shaking his head, he said, "True" while LeClerc dispelled the ward.

Hermione sat on the bed and the other Champions came over. Fleur Vanished the bed LeClerc had been sitting on and Viktor pushed Cedric in place. Sitting on conjured chairs they all began to chat. Cedric was profusely grateful for Harry's retrieval of Cho Chang in the second task, but it looked like Cedric was done with the tournament. The next day he was going to St. Mungo's for rehabilitation and therapy for his legs. The healers believed he could regain most of the function in his legs, but the therapy needed to begin immediately.

Everyone began to disperse and soon it was only Harry, Hermione and Gabrielle. Hermione looked back and forth between her friends, smiled and said, "I'll see you later" and took off for the castle.

Gabrielle sighed, said, "Finally, I have you to myself", and with a fearful expression said, "I've seen you hurt far too much for my liking these last two weeks." Harry squeezed her hands and tried to think of something humorous to say, but everything fell flat at the expression of pain on her face.

Finally, he said, "What do you say we go on a date this weekend? I'll get us reservations at a nice restaurant, maybe go to the cinema after and we'll get out of here, just the two of us."

Gabrielle smiled and he realized how much her smile meant to him. For the first time in his life, he really made it a goal to try to make someone happy, and it was she. Gabrielle said, "I'd like that very much, Harry."

Smiling back at her, he said, "Just Harry and Gabi, eh?"

She nodded and then said, "Oh, yes. I talked with Monsieur LeClerc and he said no one could bind you again without your knowledge. A binding restricts access to a percentage of magic, like capping a jar, and now that your magic is released, it would be like pushing it all in a sack that is too small. When you were younger, your magical reservoir was much smaller, so binding you would not be noticeable, especially if it was done in your sleep. Now, however, you could not help but feel it and fight back."

Harry sighed in relief and squeezed her hand. "I'm feeling pretty sleepy again, would you stay until I fall asleep?" he asked a little timidly.

She smiled softly, "Harry, I will stay until we are both old and grey, you need not ask. Now" she said in a tone that reminded him of a mother on the telly "You settle in and get some sleep. I will find Hermione and we will bring your books. Hermione and I will study with you here for the next two days and keep you company."

Looking around, she saw they were unnoticed and kissed him firmly. "I have been watching you for the last day and been unable to do that" she whispered and kissed him again, their tongues wrestling for dominance, "It has been pure torture." She pulled up the sheets and Harry settled in for a nap.

The next two days were very interesting for Harry. The two extremely bright, borderline genius, witches and he free form studied Transfiguration and Charms together while he tried to pass on his strength: spell execution. Many times he felt out of his depth, but the ladies seemed to recognize this most of the time and re-orient the discussion so as to explain what they were discussing.

It was amusing to try to keep up, as his best friends would get excited about an idea or tenant and discuss it like some of their peers would discuss fashion. Harry learned more those two days than he had his entire third year.

On more than one occasion, the exhaustion would overtake him and he would fall asleep and be snoring before they even noticed. It truly warmed his heart that Hermione and Gabrielle were becoming such good friends, and it sparked a little idea in his head.

.oOo.

Finally, it was Saturday and Harry was knocking on Gabrielle's door just after breakfast to pick her up. He had a few ideas, so they had decided to make a day of it.

She opened the door and smiled brilliantly at him as he stood there in awe of his girlfriend's beauty. Shaking his head, he appreciatively eyed the hip hugging black skirt, the grey silk blouse and the way she had pulled her hair up and back from her face.

Before he could stop himself, he pushed her back into the room, kicked the door shut behind them and was kissing her passionately. She pulled his shirt out of his pants and was stroking his back, dragging her nails lightly down to his waist before doing something she'd never done before and her hands dove down the back of his pants, cupping his bum and squeezing.

His heart was pounding like a bass drum in his ears as the blood sang through his veins, He could feel her meld her body to his, trying to get ever closer, clutching, pulling, needing.

Harry groaned and a few minutes later tore himself away from her. Breathing heavily, he said, "I am about to start ripping your clothes off, we need to stop."

Her expression challenged that statement for a moment before she cuddled up to him and said, "Yes, for now, we stop."

Holding her, he never felt like they were too young for anything. With everything he'd been through in his life, to say that he was immature and unable to handle making mature decisions was laughable. She was Veela or part-Veela at least, and was older than her years. No, they weren't too young for these considerations.

After they both caught their breath and rearranged their clothes, they walked to The Three Broomsticks and used the Floo to the Leaky Cauldron. They made a quick visit to the bank to exchange Galleons for Pounds, and promptly caught a taxi on Charing Cross Road.

Harry had the idea that they should sightsee around London. He'd never had the opportunity, nor had she. They toured the Tower of London, walked across the famous London Bridge, walked around Soho and laughed at some, maybe even many of the denizens and continued on. They ate a cozy lunch at a pub, feeding each other fish all the while trying to tickle and kiss each other into submission.

For a surprise, Harry had the next hackney take them to Sloane Street. As he escorted her out of the back seat, Gabrielle's eyes were wide at the names of the shops. He whispered in her ear, "Happy Birthday, we are here for you, my Gabrielle. Price is no object."

She turned to him with a soft smile and cupped his cheek. Without saying anything, they went shopping for her. For the next three hours, Harry was sometimes bored, other times amused, but most often exhilarated to be doing something so _ordinary_ with Gabrielle. _This is what I want_ was the theme marching through his head. The tailors and seamstresses fell in love with her, refusing anything not custom fitted. Many of the items were originals. Yves St Laurent, Givenchy, Chanel and Versache; all the shops treated her as a princess, which is what Harry had subconsciously wanted.

Later, she asked, "Do you want to come into this next shop?" Somewhat confused, Harry looked around and saw they were in front of a lingerie shop and mumbled something about a new pair of trainers and bolted away to her amused laughter behind him. Harry spent the time wandering through Tiffany & Co. and Bulgari.

They had a wonderful dinner at a small Italian bistro, cuddled in a corner booth. A healthy tip kept the manager at bay as they talked late into the evening, the cinema forgotten. As ten o'clock became eleven, she leaned into her man and said, "You treat me so well, Harry."

He smiled and said, "I've recently realized that treating you like the queen that you are is now the purpose of my life."

She began kissing his neck and said, "I wish we were a bit older and we could finish the night together."

Harry nodded, relieved that she was of the same mind as he. Brushing the hair back from her face, he said, "I agree. I love you and find you very desirable" he paused and grinned at her, "In _every_ way" and laughed at her mock exasperation followed by her own smile. "Not now, but not too long from now, eh?" She nodded confident in their relationship and feelings for each other.

Rubbing her hand on his arm as she leaned in, she said, "It takes a true man, a gentleman to say 'no' with love" referring to earlier in her room. She gave him a gentle kiss and said with a contented sigh, "You are my Chevalier, Harry."

He dropped a stack of notes on the table and handed her out of the booth. They walked hand in hand to the taxi stand and caught a cab back to the Leaky Cauldron for a joint floo back to Hogsmeade.

They stumbled out of the floo at The Three Broomsticks in a passionate embrace, and after a short moment, the few patrons began a jesting applause.

"Ummm" he eloquently said to her.

"Yes, let's" and blushing they fled for the door.

.oOo.

The next few weeks went by in a blur of happiness for the couple. Studying under a tree with the liberal use of warming and drought charms, kissing at the lake, talking and laughing in her room while drinking coffee or tea.

Harry was summoned to the Quidditch Pitch for a discussion of the third task. He and Fleur chatted with Viktor as they ambled down the lawn to the Pitch. As Harry and Viktor laughed at a joke of Fleur's, he wondered how the competitors in a tournament that promised 'Eternal Glory' had become such good friends. It could be because Harry was firmly in first place, being the only champion to have finished the second task.

After Bagman had described the maze and the "dangerous creatures" to be provided by Hagrid and others, the three solemn teens stood there in contemplation, surveying the Pitch for a bit, as Bagman left to go wherever he went. As they started to turn and return to the castle for dinner, Barty Crouch stumbled out of the woods, babbling incoherently.

Harry drew his wand and looked around. Frowning, he said, "Let's see what this is about" to the others.

Fleur and Viktor drew their wands as well and they spread out to head over to the now fallen older man.

When they were about ten feet from Crouch, a wide spread of stunning spells lanced out from the forest to their right. Harry and Viktor dove to the ground rolling, while Fleur stood her ground and did something Harry didn't expect. She radiated the Veela Allure as strongly as she could. The spellfire stopped immediately and Harry glanced at Fleur. She seemed to be glowing a yellow-white and her already ethereal beauty seemed enhanced, somehow.

Hearing a choking noise from his left, Harry turned and saw Viktor with a huge sappy grin on his face and he stood to try and rush over to Fleur and win her over. Chuckling, Harry quickly stunned his Bulgarian friend.

Fleur called out in a somewhat strained voice, "Mon frère, find the person who was cursing us. I cannot keep the Allure at this strength for much longer."

Nodding, he ran toward the forest where he heard a stumbling shuffle. Assuming the perpetrator was under an invisibility cloak or Disillusionment charm, Harry stopped, listened and watched for the underbrush to move. Finding his quarry, he let loose a spread of five stunners and was rewarded with a thump as something fell.

"Got him!" he yelled out, and in the back of his mind, he felt Fleur let the Allure dissipate.

Reaching around, he found a person under a cloak, pulled it off and sucked in his breath as he saw Professor Moody. Mimicking Remus from last year, he cast "Mobilcorpus" and the unconscious body of his lunatic Defense professor floated before him exiting the woods.

Returning to his friends, he saw Fleur panting with her hands on her knees. Concerned, he jogged up to her and said, "Hey, you Ok?" She nodded, straightened up and waved her wand to wake Viktor.

As the Bulgarian groaned and rubbed his head, Harry bound Moody while Fleur levitated Crouch. Viktor shook his head clear, looked at the other two and said, "Fleur and I vill take dese two to Infirmary. Harry, you go find your Headmaster and let him know vat has happened."

Not really liking the idea at all, but realizing it was the best plan, he nodded and took off running. Seeing a mass of Beauxbatons students heading down to the carriages he ran over. Finding Michelle DuFrey, Fleur's friend, he said, "Tell Madame Maxime that she needs to get to the Hogwarts Infirmary immediately, there is an emergency." Seeing a panting Harry Potter who was positively radiating magic giving orders authoritatively, she wondered later why she didn't salute before she raced down the lawn to the carriages.

Someone grabbed his arm and Harry's wand was in his hand before he finished turning. It was Gabrielle, and the fear on her face was directly proportional to the look on his own. Relaxing, he gathered her in his arms. "I'm sorry. It's been crazy, we were down by the Pitch and the three of us were attacked." Feeling her stiffen in his arms he quickly said, "We're all Ok. Fleur saved us by thinking quickly and using the Allure at full power. She and Viktor are heading to the Infirmary with the person who attacked us and one other." She pulled away and began feeling all over him, looking for an injury. He laughed and said, "Really, I'm alright" and kissed her on the forehead.

Squeezing her arms, he said, "Look, I've got to find Dumbledore. Why don't you wait for us in the Infirmary with Fleur and Viktor? I'll be along shortly." She nodded and he ran off to the Entrance Hall, before turning into the Great Hall and finding Dumbledore still at the Head Table, talking with Flitwick.

Slowing his pace, Harry approached and caught the Headmaster's attention. Noticing a tightening of the old man's expression Harry leaned in and said, "Sir, something has happened and you are needed in the Infirmary. I've already arranged for Madame Maxime, but Headmaster Karkaroff has not yet been summoned."

Nodding, Dumbledore called for a House Elf and asked, very politely, for Nob to find the Durmstrang Headmaster and request his presence in the Infirmary. They headed out of the Great Hall together, and once they were alone in their trek to Madam Pomfrey's domain, Dumbledore said, "Now, my Lord, what seems to be the matter?"

Harry summarized the events on the edge of the Forest and Dumbledore's pace quickened to the point that Harry had to jog to keep up. Rounding the corner into the Infirmary, he saw Gabrielle, Fleur and Viktor holding their drawn wands on a figure that Harry did not recognize that was lying in one of the Infirmary's beds. Madam Pomfrey was standing a few paces behind Viktor, staring in shock.

Seeing Dumbledore, she said, "Headmaster, he just turned into this man." The normally unflappable Healer recovered her demeanor, sniffed and said, "Must be Polyjuice" before turning to the bed containing Barty Crouch.

After a moment of obvious shock, Dumbledore called for Nob again. "Nob please go to the Defense Against the Dark Arts office and look for a trunk or cabinet that is locked. Open it if you can and assist whomever you find there here to the infirmary." Turning back to the figures on the beds, he said to the assembled, "This man is a Death Eater by the name of Bartemius Crouch Junior."

Harry shook his head and walked over to Gabrielle. Taking her in his arms, his own emotions seemed to calm from the high-wire tension feeling he had been running at for the last hour. Gabrielle whispered in his ear, "Are you sure you are unhurt?"

He nodded into her hair and pulled her a little closer. Suddenly, a thought hit him. Turning out of Gabrielle's embrace, he barely noticed Madame Maxime striding in the ward and said to his Headmaster, "How on God's green earth did you fail to realize that this man was not Mad-Eye Moody?" After a few beats he remembered, "Sir."

Dumbledore seemed to sag while standing there. Before he could continue, Harry let fly, "This is the second servant of Voldemort that you have hired during my time here, Sir." Shaking his head in stunned disbelief at the situation, he struggled for words.

Gabrielle was under no such constraints, "Are you an imbecile? Is that the issue at hand?" Harry's eyes went wide as his girlfriend lit into the stunned old man. Fleur reached out a hand to calm the girl who responded in French, "No! This is how many times he has failed to protect my bond-mate? He must answer."

Turning back to Dumbledore, her eyes seemed to flare like the sun as she said, "How can you continue to fail, Headmaster Dumbledore?"

Dumbledore was nonplussed and looked back and forth between Harry and Gabrielle. From behind him, he heard a voice he did not expect say, "She asks a good question, Albus. Do you have an equally good answer?"

Dumbledore turned to see Minerva McGonagall standing ramrod straight with a no nonsense, take no prisoners expression on her face. She raised her left eyebrow and without humor asked, "Well?"

With surprising sincerity, the old man said, "I have no answer that is fit. My failures as a Headmaster to keep you in a safe environment" here he nodded in Harry's direction, "are stupendous." He paused as if to say more and then reconsidered.

Asking Madam Pomfrey to keep him updated on the health of the two men he continued, "Minerva, Nob may be returning with Alastor soon. The real Alastor that is. Would you please stay here with the Crouchs whilst I contact the Aurors? I would like to discern what was afoot by the replacement of Alastor with Young Bartemius." McGonagall nodded to him and with a sad look at Harry, Dumbledore strode out of the ward with Madame Maxime.

A few minutes later, Harry and Gabrielle walked out of the Infirmary hand-in-hand following Fleur. Just as they exited the castle, Harry remembered, "Hey Fleur" and they took a little detour toward an oak tree that people studied under in fair weather. "You called me, mon frère, back there. Didn't you?"

Fleur smiled broadly, "I didn't even realize it, but yes, I did." She faltered a bit, remembering his family life and said, "I hope I did not offend?"

Harry smiled and gave her a big hug, "Not at all, ma soeur" and she hugged him back with an equally big smile.

After Fleur went down to her room to work on an Ancient Runes paper, Harry and Gabrielle followed at a slower pace. "Did that bother you?" he asked.

"Her calling you 'brother'? No." She blushed a little, "It was actually wonderful." At Harry's curious look she elaborated, "Fleur has always been my hero growing up. You know older sister and all. For her to accept you to the point of calling you 'brother' warms my very soul." She put her head on his shoulder and said softly, "I love you, Harry."

They went down to her room and studied for a bit. She had a Potions test in two days and Harry a Transfiguration test in three. Around ten o'clock, Harry began packing up his bag to head back to the tower when Gabrielle got a nervous look on her face. "Harry?" she asked.

"Hmm?" he said in response, packing up his quills and notes.

"Stay tonight. Stay with me."

Responding to his shocked expression, she said, "Just sleep. I want to wake up with you in the morning."

His face slowly unfroze and he began to smile, "Ok" was all he could muster and he dropped his bag.

She smiled back and shooed him out to use the toilet while she changed. He was down at the carriage dormitory so much that no one commented on his being in the toilet late at night.

He got back to her room and she was wearing her nightgown and already in bed, brushing her hair. Stripping down to his boxers, he climbed in next to her, placing his glasses on the nightstand. He couldn't help it; he reached out for her, and pulled her close to give her a searing kiss.

She responded with animalistic passion and rolled him on his back, straddling him as she kissed him with abandon. His hands had pulled up her nightgown and he was caressing her incredible bum. Her incredible, naked, bum. He realized that he was quickly losing control over himself.

She obviously felt the same way as she pulled back forcefully. He involuntarily squeezed again and she groaned with a frustrated pleasure. She muttered and all he could make out was "Mon Dieu, please soon".

He laughed under his breath as she rolled off him and draped herself over his chest. With a few muttered words, the lights dimmed and soon their breathing slowed. He had to tell her before they lost the moment though so he said, "I want you to know, that I do want to make love to you. Very much. I'm not sure why, but a little voice keeps telling me 'not yet.' Not in a bad way, but it's there nonetheless."

She squeezed him tightly and said, "It must be the bond growing on your side. I feel drawn to you, complete with you, warm in my soul with you. Some of that is the magic of the bond" she looked in his face and said, "Some of that is the magic of the love I feel for you and you for me."

They searched each other's eyes, each other's souls and found what they were looking for. "I've read in some of Grand-mere's books that the Veela's bond-mate will experience the bond as well, and I think that because your core is now unchained, you are developing your side of the bond. It is exciting, n'est-pas?"

"I don't know for sure what it is, but I do know that I love you" he muttered as he rolled over and pulled her back to his chest as they drifted off to sleep.

The next morning was the best of Harry's life. He slowly woke to a wonderfully warm feeling and opened his eyes to a cascade of blond hair and blue eyes watching him. He couldn't help himself and he broke into an ear-to-ear smile. Giving her a quick closed mouth kiss due to morning breath, he pulled his girlfriend on his shoulder as he rolled on his back.

She snuggled in to him and said, "How did you sleep?"

He chuckled, "It took me a while to calm down," she laughed in response, "But once I did, I had the best sleep of my life." She purred contentedly for a while and he held her close. Finally, he rolled out of bed and grabbed his pants. Looking back at her as she sat up, it struck him how truly beautiful she was and it took his breath away.

She looked at him quizzically "What?" He just smiled and got dressed.

After sneaking out of the carriage, he trod the path up to the castle. As it was only 5:30 AM, he had no encounters until he entered the castle. Just turning a corner as he closed the main doors was Professor Snape.

Muttering to himself, Harry tried to will himself invisible and hurried in an attempt to run by the snarky potions master. Snape had continued his reign of terror in the classroom this year. Gabrielle had counseled ignoring the man's constant biting jibes and insults. "Don't even look at him" was her best advice, unknowingly echoing Hermione's counsel. It had helped quite a bit, but the man was still at the top of Witch Weekly's "Most Odious" list for the last ten years running.

He continued to maintain his reputation this morning.

"Potter!"

Harry sighed and stopped midstride. Slumping his shoulders he turned to the greasy haired bully and mumbled, "Yes, Sir."

Opening his mouth in what he considered a smile; Snape displayed his yellowed bad teeth for the world to see. "Where are you going, Mr. Potter?"

Still looking at the ground, Harry said with more firmness, "Back to Gryffindor Tower."

Rolling his eyes in impatience, Snape spat, "But why are you out so late after curfew, Potter? I'm afraid you will have to start packing now, boy. Come with me."

They started up to Dumbledore's office and Harry's anger, which had been simmering since he saw Snape, began to boil. Following Snape up the steps, the young Gryffindor squared his shoulders and prepared for battle.

Before they even entered the Headmaster's office, Snape spat, "Headmaster, I demand that Potter be expelled. I just caught him returning from the Beauxbatons carriages. Obviously, he did not return to his dormitory last night."

Dumbledore's eyebrow's shot up and he turned to Harry and asked, "My Lord?" At this address, Snape sucked in his breath and almost had a stroke. Instead, for the very first time in his life, Snape displayed an amazing amount of self-control and good judgment by saying nothing.

Harry looked first at Dumbledore, then the purple faced Snape and decided that brass was needed for this encounter. He laughed.

"Of course I was coming back from the carriages." He held out his bag and nodded at it. "I was studying last night with my _bond-mate_ and left my Transfiguration book in her room. As Transfiguration is first this morning, I ran down there to retrieve it before breakfast. Will that be all, Sir?" and he made to turn to the Headmaster's door.

Snape began to sputter. Saliva was dripping down his chin at an alarming rate causing Harry to laugh again. With mock seriousness, Harry said, "Professor, you should see Madam Pomfrey, she could help you with that problem."

In a towering rage, Snape shouted, "Fifty points from Gryffindor!" as he spun and pulled his wand on Harry.

Harry placidly returned his potion's master's gaze for a moment before looking at the Headmaster. When Dumbledore said and more importantly, did nothing to reprimand Snape, Harry sighed in resignation. He returned his attention to the incensed Potions Master, saying, "Professor Snape, the last comment I made was inappropriate and I apologize. It won't happen again, sir."

When Snape did not lower his wand, Dumbledore snapped, "Severus, lower your wand immediately!"

Haltingly, Snape complied and Harry said, "If there is nothing else then?" At Dumbledore's distracted headshake, Harry made a half bow and swiftly exited the office.

.oOo.

Harry walked back to Gryffindor tower deep in thought. After a shave and a shower, he met up with Hermione in the common room. "Hey, let's go for a walk. I want to talk about something."

With a look of concern, Hermione followed her best friend out the portrait hole and into Transfiguration #6. After he locked and silenced the door, Harry said, "I had another encounter with the Headmaster and Snape."

Hermione groaned, too upset to reprove the lack of the word 'Professor.' Waving her hand for more, he related what had happened. After quite a bit of blushing when she realized that Harry had spent the night with Gabrielle, she finally said, "Ok, the Headmaster let Professor Snape do whatever he wanted to, _again_, and you took advantage of the situation and escaped unscathed."

Harry nodded, looking at the ground. After a full minute of silence he said, "I can't come back here next year Hermione. I won't put up with the interference, the bullying, the blatant abuses and at the same time be apart from Gabrielle."

Hermione looked stricken as he paused and looked up at her, "Please come with me to Beauxbatons."

Completely taken off guard, Hermione almost fell out of her chair. Shaking her head slowly, she said, "I did _not_ expect that question this morning." Seeing a small smile on her friends face she smiled back at her attempt at levity. "I completely understand your reasoning. Can I think about it?"

Harry smiled and shocked her again by giving her a big hug, "Take your time. I'm going to talk to Madame Maxime this morning after breakfast, should I mention that you are considering a transfer as well?"

Pursing her lips, she thought about it. _If he leaves, why stay? Beauxbatons is as good a school as Hogwarts, if not better in Potions and Arithmancy. I have no other friends here._ With a small smile she said, "Yes, do that. I need to think about how to talk to mum and dad about all this." With smiling faces, for entirely different reasons, the two friends headed down to breakfast.

After a quick breakfast, Harry left Hermione and Gabrielle chatting about their men and he followed Madame Maxime out of the Great Hall. "Madame Maxime?" he called as he jogged to catch up to the Headmistress.

Turning, she smiled at the young man and with an inquisitive expression said, "Monsieur Potter, how can I help you this morning?"

Catching up to her he said, "Madame, what paperwork do I need to fill out so that I and another Hogwarts student can transfer to Beauxbatons for the next school year?"

Madame Maxime widened her smile; she had not had such a good start to a day in quite a long time.

An hour later, Harry came out of the Headmistress' office with a pile of parchment under his arm. Most of it was for application of a student Visa and waiver for the restriction of underage magic use by an emancipated minor.

Whistling as he headed toward the exit of the enlarged carriage, he heard his name being called behind him by his favorite person. Gabrielle caught up to him with a quizzical look on her beautiful face. "What's going on? Why are you here?"

He smiled and showed her the top parchment which was labeled: "Application for transfer to Beauxbatons Academy"

Her hand went to her mouth as she gasped, paled and then looked at him with wide eyes. She looked back at the form, as if she was afraid it had vanished, or she had somehow misread what the inch tall block letters had said. After a moment of staring, a throaty giggle started to bubble up from deep inside her. Dropping her books on the ground, she threw her arms around her boyfriend and kissed him long and deep.

A few moments, or an eternity later, they broke apart with identical grins. Giving her a quick kiss on the tip of her nose, he said, "Gotta go. Transfiguration in twenty minutes" and ran out the door and up the lawn.

May became June and Harry, Gabrielle and Hermione took their extra studying to new heights. With the knowledge of the maze and some basic assumptions, they focused their studies in outdoor survival, offensive spells and rapid transfiguration.

Harry's strength lay in charms, so he quickly picked up the offensive spells but had to put quite a bit of effort into the rapid transfiguration. He eventually became quite good at transfiguring a brick wall, shattering it and then banishing the debris in less than two seconds. Hermione figured it would be a good area effect weapon in case of attack from a wide arc.

Gabrielle helped him master the more advanced offensive spells. She had researched the Flame Whip spell, Bone Breaking curse and Bone Exploding curse. These quickly became Harry's default offensive spells as he mastered them with ease, even to the point where Hermione was afraid to be on the receiving end of some of his spells.

"We should do some basic first aid spells" Hermione said late one night as they left the Charms classroom they had been practicing in.

Harry nodded and said, "Good idea. I'll look some up during my morning free period for us to go over" and so their accelerated preparation went on.

Toward the end of June, all the three friends could focus on was the third task. Even Hermione found it hard to drag her attention away from helping her adopted brother so she could ramp up to her usual intense preparation for exams.

The evening of June 23rd found Harry and Gabrielle sitting on their bench down by the lake. Sometimes chatting about the upcoming holidays, sometimes sitting in silence, savoring each others presence and the scented night air.

"Please be careful tomorrow" she whispered into the night.

He nodded, "I will."

"It will be bad, won't it?"

"I think so. I have another bad feeling about all this. Have you talked to Fleur?"

She half turned and leaned on him, "Yes. After lunch we talked for an hour or so. She…" she paused and collected herself, "She said goodbye to me, Harry."

Eyes wide, he pulled her close, "If I can help it, she'll come back to you. I promise."

"What about you?" She sat up straight and looked into his face with tears dripping down her cheeks. "I need you. Without you, well…" and she held him close, trying to merge their very bodies together so as to never be without him.

With a small smile he said, "I told you before the first two tasks, I've too much to live for now. A dragon, a village of mer-people, a giant squid and a herd of Grindylows can't keep me from you. No mere maze and the nasties in it will keep it from you."

From his chest she almost whispered, "I love you, Harry."

He kissed the top of her head and said, "I love you, too."

June the 24th dawned bright and sunny. During breakfast, Professor McGonagall approached the Gryffindor table where Harry, Hermione and Gabrielle were sitting and said, "Potter, the champions are congregating in the chamber off the Hall after breakfast."

Puzzled, Harry said, "Why, Professor?"

The taciturn professor said, "The families of the champions are here and are awaiting you all in the chamber."

Harry gulped and looked at his girlfriend. There was no possible way that the Dursley's were there, but the Delacours would be there. Gabi gave him a reassuring smile and rubbed his back. Hermione leaned over the table and said, "They'll love you Harry."

He gave her a tremulous smile in return. When Fleur stood from the Ravenclaw table, Harry took a deep breath, thoughts of the third task banished from his mind, and stood with Gabrielle.

He walked the long green mile down the table to the doorway to the antechamber for the Great Hall, not even noticing the amused smile that kept appearing and the disappearing on his girlfriend's face.

They reached the door and Harry stood still for a second before he heard her whisper in his ear, "Even if they don't like you, I'll still be with you." He smiled and very deliberately opened the door, holding it wide for Gabrielle to precede him into the room.

Right in front of him were Viktor and his parents, to whom he nodded and smiled with a little wave, "We need to amble over to them later to get introduced" she said to him as they walked past. Just beyond the Krum family was a surprise for Harry: Molly and Bill Weasley stood there beaming at him.

"Harry, dear, how are you" Molly Weasley exclaimed as she bustled up to him and gave him a big hug. Somewhat confused, Harry gave her a gentle hug in return. Ron had never really put forth any effort in regaining Harry's friendship after the first task. On occasion they would chat, but that was really the extent of the relationship. They had, for better or worse, become acquaintances.

He had overheard Ron bragging about his role in some of Harry's adventures in previous years. Ron's role was somehow larger in the retelling, and Harry's much smaller. In his head, Harry knew that friends drift apart and that it was normal, but from time to time he still missed his first real friend. He felt like now that their relationship was 'hard', Ron didn't think that he was worth the effort.

After breaking apart from the red-haired matron, Harry shook Bill's hand. He'd liked Bill quite a bit in the short stint that they'd been together the previous summer. Recollecting his manners after a short throat clearing from the blond next to him, he said, "Mrs. Weasley, Bill; this is Gabrielle Delacour, my girlfriend. Gabrielle, this is Mrs. Weasley and Bill Weasley."

After the niceties were exchanged, Harry looked expectantly at Mrs. Weasley for an explanation as to their presence. Molly looked at Bill who said in a low voice, "Harry, Ginny has been keeping Mum and Dad up to date on the goings on this year and we know that Ron has not been a shining star as far as his behavior toward you is concerned. Well" he paused to run his hand through his long hair, "according to Ginny, Ron's been a bit of a prick."

Bill didn't even flinch when his mother gasped. Harry smiled; now he _really_ liked Bill.

Continuing on, the Weasley heir said, "Ginny also let us know that you have been a stand up guy this year and we're here to let you know that we still care about you and want you to know that we – all of us – still consider you a friend of the family."

Harry tightened his grip on Gabrielle's hand as he was flooded with emotion. She rubbed his arm as Harry choked out, "Thanks Bill, Mrs. Weasley. That means a lot to me."

When his relationship with Ron had pretty much fallen apart, Harry had wistfully given up on his relationship with clan Weasley. He didn't know how he'd have a relationship with them outside of school, especially now that he was transferring to Beauxbatons, but it did warm his heart that they felt this way about him.

Harry saw Fleur across the room talking with two adults that could only be Henri and Marie Delacour, he said, "Thanks for coming." Taking a mock deep breath, he said, "Now, I need to meet my girlfriend's parents. Most especially, her father."

Bill laughed and Molly smiled while Gabrielle gave a mock scowl, "If you'd like, we'll wait over here" said Molly.

Harry thought for a minute and then said, "That would be nice, see you in a bit."

Walking over to meet Gabrielle's parents Harry was incredibly nervous. For all intents and purposes, he knew that he was meeting his future wife's parents and knew that they had been less than pleased with his and Gabrielle's bonding. Gabrielle looked at him to see if he was ready; he nodded so they closed the last few feet.

Henri Delacour was of average height with dark hair, graying at the temples. He was a strikingly handsome man with a strong jaw and Roman nose. He was lean with a whipcord grace to his movements. Harry knew that there were no male Veela, but it was obvious to him, that Henri had inherited some of his mother's natural charm.

Marie was a stunning woman. If he didn't know better, Harry would have sworn that she was the carrier of the Veela gene in the Delacour family. Her blond hair was upswept in a fashionable style and her tailored Givenchy pantsuit flattered her very attractive figure.

Gabrielle conducted the introductions in French. She and Harry had been stepping up his French lessons, working with Hermione as well. Hermione had the excellent idea to only speak French among themselves, which at first seemed ridiculous, but actually helped Harry quite a bit to stimulate his conversational use of the language. He had wanted to show an effort on his part to be courteous for Gabrielle's parents by speaking their language when they met. Besides, sucking up a little never hurt anyone.

He shook Henri's hand firmly and kissed Marie's hand saying "Enchante, Madame." They greeted him with friendly smiles and Marie bussed his cheeks. _So far, so good._

"Baron Potter, you have been the focus of our little Angel's letters home all year long. It is very good to meet you at last" said Henri.

"Please, sir, call me Harry. I've heard so much from Gabrielle and Fleur about the two of you that I have been looking forward to meeting you."

They made some pleasant small talk before Fleur nudged Gabrielle and indicated to the Weasleys with her head. "Who is that gorgeous, tall, red-head you were talking to?"

Gabrielle cocked an eyebrow at her sister while her parents and Harry discussed his upcoming transfer to Beauxbatons. "He is William Weasley; a friend of Harry's who is a cursebreaker for Gringotts."

"Cursebreaker? Really?" She tapped her chin thoughtfully and muttered, "Sexy and smart" causing Gabrielle to burst into laughter.

Waving off the curious looks from their parents and Harry, the Delacour sisters rejoined the conversation. Harry took a moment and waved the Weasleys over to make introductions.

As Bill and Molly walked over, Henri caught Harry's eye and with a hopeful expression said, "So, Harry, do you sail?"

The other three Delacours started laughing and Marie playfully reproved her husband as Harry introduced the Weasley's. "Monsieur and Madame Delacour, may I present to you friends of mine; Mrs. Arthur Weasley and Mr. Bill Weasley."

Handshakes were exchanged all around and when Bill got to Fleur, he turned her hand, brushed his lips across her knuckles and with a small smile said, "Enchante, Mademoiselle."

Fleur made eye contact and with a small smile of her own said, "I am very pleased to meet you Monsieur Weasley."

Henri and Marie exchanged an amused glance and began to chat with Molly about Hogwarts and her school years. Harry was surprised when he found that Molly had been passionately devoted to the study of Ancient Runes and had it not been for the quick arrivals of first Bill then Charlie, she would have pursued a career in warding and possibly spell creation. _I guess the smarts in the family had to come from somewhere._

The party exited the school, chatting and laughing as Harry gave everyone a tour of the grounds. There were quite a few narrowed eyes amongst the visitors when they saw the Black Lake and Marie muttered something to Henri to which he stone facedly nodded. After a moment, he said, "Harry, I wish to formally thank you for your rescue of Gabrielle during the second task and praise you for your rescue of all four of the hostages. From what Fleur has written home, you quite literally saved their lives."

"What's all this?" said Molly Weasley with a bit of her well known intensity. Gabrielle then proceeded to explain the situation to the Weasleys whose faces became stonier as the tale went on.

Bill was thunderous, "They never got your permission?" He glanced at Harry and Fleur, "Any of the hostages?"

When there were wry head shakes in return to Bill's question, Molly said, "Right, I've a bit of a discussion that's needed. I'll catch you all up shortly. Henri, Marie, it's been a pleasure meeting you. I'll find you before lunch" and she stormed off toward the castle.

Harry and Bill chuckled and when the somewhat confused Delacours looked at Bill he said with a smile, "I believe Mum is going to have a bit of a chat with the esteemed Headmaster Dumbledore. Be glad we're outside or your ears would be ringing, she doesn't take to kindly to hurting children. Last year, a wizard down the road was beating his wife and kids. Mum found out about it from Fred and George, grabbed her wand, apparated down there and did _something_. He left town the next day and Mum has been very good friends with Mrs. Haversham ever since."

.oOo.

Lunch was pleasant. A satisfied looking Mrs. Weasley and Bill sat with their family while Harry sat with the Delacours. At one point, Marie said, "It is good to see the champions getting along so well, despite the competitiveness that the tasks must inspire. It shows a maturity about you all that is lacking in most people your age."

Fleur inclined her head, acknowledging the compliment, but Harry, who was ill equipped and ill used to compliments, just blushed and looked at his plate. Marie frowned slightly in concern, caught Gabrielle's eye and then resumed her meal.

During the afternoon, the Delacours and Harry meandered about the grounds, conjuring benches here and there as Delacour Pere and Mere chatted and caught up with their children. Harry was stunned when Marie turned to him and said, "What is your favorite subject Harry?"

Harry's mouth hung open, surprised. Not only had they been treating him as family all day, but it was evident that Madame Delacour sincerely wanted to get to know him. Gabrielle rubbed his arm and smiled encouragingly. "Defense Against the Dark Arts, Ma'am."

Nodding slightly, she said, "And why is that?" Harry didn't notice, but Fleur had hushed her father in the side discussion they were having so as to listen to Harry.

"Well, Defense seems to come naturally to me. The theory isn't the focus, like in Transfiguration; it's all about the execution. Once I can get the hang of a spell, it's merely a matter of stitching it into a cadence of other spells." He shrugged nonchalantly about topics which the bulk of the magical world was either ignorant or considered to be very difficult. Not may people have mastered the Bone Breaking curse, much less in two days. The elder Delacours gaped and Gabrielle smiled broadly.

"He is a prodigy, I tell you" his girlfriend said. Harry blushed and said nothing, looking at the ground.

Marie frowned again and said to her younger daughter, "Why do you say that, Cherie?"

"Two or maybe three weeks ago we sat down and culled a dozen or so offensive spells from a list his Professor Flitwick recommended. He was able to perform them all within two nights and had series set up by the end of the week."

"Series?" Henri asked.

Harry looked up, interested again, "Yes, instead of thinking about each individual spell to cast, which could cause hesitation and an opening for an opponent, Professor Flitwick recommended a sequence of spells to link together, four or five in a row, to be able to speed up spellcasting and maximize effectiveness. It's best to put spells in series where their wand movements flow into each other. The Cutting curse and the Bone Breaking curse are like that. Makes it really easy to speed up the delivery of multiple spells and keep an opponent on the defensive."

Henri and Marie raised their eyebrows as this young man held forth like a professional duelist. Fleur just shook her head with a small smile while Gabrielle looked on proudly.

Harry explained how the combination of a strong Blasting curse followed by a Reductor could bring down almost any shield out there. Depending on the situation, either a stunner or a Bone Breaking curse was the next logical spell.

"Of course" said Marie, bewildered.

Harry's face suddenly became fearful, followed quickly by downcast. He looked at the ground and said, "I hope you all don't think that I'm some crazed lunatic, learning all this about fighting. If it weren't for the tournament, I doubt I'd be learning it at all."

Marie stood and crossed the small clearing they were sitting in and sat next to him. She gave her husband and offspring a look they all knew well and soon it was just she and Harry.

Wrapping her left arm around his shoulders, she said, "Harry, you haven't had much love in your life, have you?"

He looked up, surprised and shocked. "N-not really, no."

She nodded and said, "I can tell." Squeezing him gently in a half hug, she continued "You are a strong and good young man, my daughter would have chosen none other. Be honest with yourself Harry, you are good at these things. Have you been told otherwise?"

It was a prolonged moment of silence before Harry deflated a bit and said, "My Aunt and Uncle."

"Ah, and what did they say."

This time the silence was longer before he almost whispered, "That I'm a freak."

Marie stilled and her considerable temper began to sizzle. Clamping down on her reaction with a visible effort, she said, "Oh?"

Harry began a second purging of the poison of his soul with a Delacour woman, this time it was much shorter and focused only on the Dursleys. At the end, he sighed again and Marie drew him into a big hug.

"You are a good man, don't let those monsters tell or treat you otherwise. You will stay with us for the entire summer, I won't have you go back to them." She gave him a sly smile, "Gabrielle has hinted that you have a topic you wish to discuss with Henri."

Harry blushed, smiled broadly and nodded. Marie stood and said, "Good, we both want you with us. Let's find where our wayward family has wandered off to."

Harry wandered down the path chatting with Marie, the first person who had ever behaved like a mother for him and his heart was warm.

.oOo.

After dinner, he stood in front of the maze, trying to calm his jangling nerves. Since he was so far in front of the remaining two competitors, he had a full five minute head start before Fleur entered and then another forty-five seconds before Viktor started. He was the only champion who had finished the second task after all.

He looked in the stands and saw his own little support team sitting together; the Weasleys, Hermione and the Delacours. Harry had been very impressed how Henri and Marie had wished both Fleur and him luck before they went to find seats.

He was distracted from his thoughts by a hand on his shoulder. He turned to find Fleur there with a wistful look on her face. After studying him for a moment, she pulled him into a warm hug that he returned. He had come to sincerely care about Fleur and didn't want her to be hurt. After a nice, substantial hug, she pulled back and whispered, "You take care in there, mon frère. Gabrielle won't tolerate you disappearing on her."

He chuckled and said, "You too, ma soeur" which earned him another brief hug.

Harry walked up to Viktor and shook his hand. "I'm not glad to be in the tournament, but I'm very glad to have met you and had the opportunity to know you."

Viktor smiled, which was a rarity, and said, "You too. Maybe ve get together dis summer and fly, eh?"

Smiling, Harry agreed before they were interrupted by Bagman and the start of the task. Moments later, Harry found himself jogging down the entry path to the maze.

The hedge was about 15 feet tall; tall enough to generate the illusion of confining space, giving the path a bit of a claustrophobic feel.

"Point me Triwizard Cup" Harry whispered, using the modified navigation spell to help him at path junctions. Moving at a fast clip, he rounded a corner and found himself staring right at a snarling Cerberus.

"Shit!" he yelled as he dove to the left to avoid the snapping jaws of the left most head. The hair on the back of his neck stood on end as hot, humid breath enveloped him and the _snick_ of Fluffy's teeth snapping together sounded like it was right next to his ear.

Bouncing off the hedge wall, he jumped up and began backing quickly casting "Impedimenta!" multiple times. The spell hit the center head between the eyes and it froze while the outside two heads continued to bark and slaver. Strangely, the Cerberus' body seemed to move in slow motion while the two non-affected heads continued their extremely loud exclamations.

With a look of confused surprise that such a basic spell could affect a Cerberus, Harry then used the Impediment spell on the other two heads in quick succession and ran by the now motionless beast. "Thank goodness for an unchained magical core."

Turning back he muttered, "Just in case" and conjured a ten foot tall brick wall that blocked the entire path. "Don't want old Fluffy coming up behind me" and he continued his brisk jog down the path, suitably wary of any further obstacles.

After forcing his way through a Confundus mist, he paused to cast the modified Point Me spell and turned left just as a bell sounded announcing Fleur's entry into the maze.

At the end of the path he was on, he could see that it opened up into a clearing, or at least large box shape. Knowing that there was no way he was at the end of the task; he slowed and brought his wand to the ready. Harry slowly entered the clearing when he heard a _swooshing_ noise to his right and dove the rest of the way into the area.

Rolling to his feet, Harry saw the blade of a huge axe coming right at his head and he dove again, rolling to gain distance from his yet unseen attacker. He heard a bellow of a roar behind him and heavy footfalls as he pushed himself up. Dodging yet another attack, he finally saw that his opponent was a fifteen foot tall Minotaur.

"Oh, no" was all the coherent thought he could muster as he literally ran for his life to get some room from the implacably attacking monster.

Turning to finally go on the offensive, Harry began to chant, "Reducto! Confringo! Stupefy!" The first spell hit the Minotaur in the left thigh and slowed the beast for a half a step. The Blasting curse caused a serious wound in the half man/half bull's left shoulder. However, it didn't slow its charge one iota. The Stunning spell was just so much light as it bounced off the magically resistant, charging monster.

Instead of swinging its axe, the enormous legend of the past lowered its head and drove into Harry's chest, and with a jerk of its thick neck, tossed Harry ten feet in the air.

Harry saw the entire event in slow motion. He half jumped up right as the Minotaur grappled him with its horns. With the toss and shake of its mighty head, Harry flew up and over the ancient monster, landing on his left arm.

A shattering pain drove up his arm and into his brain like a red hot railroad spike. His wrist was obviously broken and his chest hurt like billy-o, but the Minotaur had already stopped and turned, finding his prey and beginning another charge. There was no time for ought else but to attack.

Harry shakily stood and muttered, "No more Mr. Nice Guy" and began a new chant, "Diffindo! Ossio Fractum! Ossio Exploso! Diffindo!"

The first Cutting curse opened up the wound on the Minotaur's shoulder even further and causing it to bleed freely. The monster recoiled and bellowed at Harry before the Bone Breaking curse hit the beast in its kneecap, shattering it. The Minotaur let out a bellow of pain and rage as it began to fall.

The Bone Exploding curse was supposed to hit the knee as well, but the beast had already begun to fall and it hit in the left thigh. The final Cutting curse had already left Harry's wand when he saw the Minotaur's thigh explode in a shower of blood and gore. The second Cutting curse finished the job and severed the leg altogether.

Harry stared for a moment at his fallen adversary and then promptly vomited his dinner in the grass.

After recovering himself, he cast a Stunning spell in the roaring beast's mouth and its screaming ceased. Harry quickly cast some basic first aid spells to stop the bleeding and place the stump in stasis for later reattachment of the leg.

Satisfied with his work, he cast red sparks up and trotted out the exit of the clearing.

In front of him was a long straight section of the maze. As he jogged down it, he noticed that intertwined with the hedge was a set of vines that were covered in small fire red flowers with berries about the size of a cherry.

Harry stopped and closed his eyes. The aroma of the small flowers was enticing. He felt the scent permeate and surround him, almost calling to him. He opened his eyes and it seemed as if the only thing on the planet that made sense was to pluck a berry. The succulent, luscious redness was a siren call that he couldn't ignore.

Reaching out with his right hand, he hesitated then his fingers closed around the berry. Instantly, the berry exploded, coating him in a viscous, tar-like fluid. Stumbling backward, he bumped into the hedge behind him and a dozen more berries exploded. He tried to stand still and Vanish the now hardening sticky substance, but more berries were setting off, seemingly as a result of their neighbors exploding.

Stumbling down the path, trying to outrun the exploding fruits, Harry was Vanishing as much of the goop as he could. He was losing ground and by now was mostly covered in the goo. It was difficult to move, as his arms were sticking to his sides and his feet to the ground. Finally, he was able to Vanish enough of the goo to move on when he heard a loud _sput_ from behind him.

Whirling around, wand at the ready, he saw an enormous Blast-Ended Skrewt, its stinger bobbing like a snake over its back.

Harry growled in exasperation, this was getting to be a bit much. He quickly cast a series of Cutting curses which severed the stinger of the Skrewt. When his Reductor curse bounced off the shell of the advancing lobstrocity, a frustrated Harry shouted "Ossio Exploso!" and the shell of the Skrewt exploded, spewing grayish gobbets of matter all over.

Sighing at the mess, Harry cast a quick Cleansing spell on himself and moved on. By now his arm was throbbing quite badly so he conjured a splint for it and cast a Numbing charm on it. He hadn't really nailed down the Bone Knitting spell in preparation for the task and was regretting it.

With a smile, he figured that Gabrielle would first kiss him senseless and then berate him in French for a good fifteen minutes for not learning the spell properly before Madam Pomfrey or Monsieur LeClerc could fix him up proper. At that point, Hermione would be giving him an earful in English.

With a small chuckle, he rounded a corner and saw, at the end of a long path, the slightly glowing Triwizard Cup. At this point, most teenagers would be ecstatic about the probability of winning the tournament, or at least finishing with the damn thing.

"This is too easy" he said to himself. Looking closely at the hedges and at the ground for any traps he found none. Looking up, he saw a shadow looming over the left hand side of the hedge; a shadow that was disturbingly familiar. Casting the Star Shell charm, a magnesium flare shot out of his wand and arced over the hedge and he saw in clear relief a fully grown Acromantula.

"Shit"

Deciding that the best defense is a good offense, Harry Vanished a section of the hedge on his left. He took a steadying breath, pictured in his mind the actions he wanted to take and jumped through the gap.

As he landed, Harry's wand was a blur. Before the Acromantula had even turned around, Harry had conjured a brick wall, shattered it into pieces the size of a cricket balls and with a grunt, banished the pieces at Aragog's offspring with all the force he could muster. Hearing the oversized arachnid shriek in its piercing voice, Harry repeated himself three times before he even looked at his quarry.

He saw a mess that he hadn't seen since late in his second year as he and Ron had fled the forest in the now feral Ford Anglia. "Lucky my stomach is already empty" he muttered and walked back through the gap in the hedge he had created

He entered the clearing that held the cup and he slowly approached the plinth upon which it stood. Four other paths terminated here in the clearing and Harry saw no one and nothing else. Relaxing slightly, he approached the plinth, studying it from all angles. He cast some basic revealing spells and found nothing. Shrugging, he started to reach for the cup when he heard a rustle behind him. Turning around he leveled his wand and found that he was aiming at Fleur.

He grinned and lowered his wand. She was very dirty and the long braid she had placed her hair was mostly undone. There was a cut running down her left arm and her trousers were torn and bloody on her right leg. Nodding to her, he said, "You Ok?"

She snorted, "A Vampire, a Boggart, disillusioned quicksand and three Quintapeds" she said, answering his unvoiced question. "You?"

He laughed, "A Cerberus, a nasty Confundus mist, a bloody Minotaur, this malevolent exploding plant, a Blast Ended Skrewt" at this, Fleur looked at him quizzically. "Don't ask" he responded to her look, "and the piece de resistance, a fully grown Acromantula. Wonder what Viktor has had?"

Fleur laughed and shook her head. A little regretfully, she said, "Well, go ahead and claim your victory mon frère."

Harry nodded and turned back to the cup. With a bit of a sigh he reached out and grabbed it.

He disappeared and Fleur screamed.

.oOo.

Harry immediately recognized the feeling of the portkey pulling him through space and desperately hoped it was just taking him to the beginning of maze. Somehow he doubted it.

Realizing his landing would be rough, he tucked his left arm in close to his body and was ready to roll and protect his broken limb. When he did land, he tucked and rolled to his left.

As he stood, the last thing he saw was the red flash of a Stunning spell.

Twenty seven minutes later, a rather worse for the wear Harry Potter portkeyed to the entrance of the Third Task maze. Bleeding from multiple wounds and shaking from exposure to the Cruciatus curse, he stumbled to his knees, dropped the trophy and looked up at the crowd which was in silent anticipation.

He saw a blond figure sprinting to him and he could only open his arms as he wept. She slowed as she approached, took him in her arms and pulled him close. Gabrielle wept with her love; weeping for his pain and for the experience he must have had to make him cry so.

"Is Fleur Ok?" he whispered against her chest.

She nodded in response, unable to speak as the relief and pent up emotions rolled over and through her.

A soft hand on his shoulder announced Madam Pomfrey with Hermione, the Headmaster and many other familiar faces behind her. After the Healer conjured a stretcher, Pomfrey and Gabrielle helped him on it and he was levitated up to the infirmary with the Delacours, Hermione, the Weasleys and the staff in tow.

They got up to the Infirmary and Madam Pomfrey started treating Harry for his numerous injuries when Dumbledore said, almost apologetically, "Pardon me Poppy, but" turning to Harry he said, "My Lord, would you please tell us what happened after you were portkeyed away?"

Harry looked at him for a long second, and then said "Pensieve."

Dumbledore nodded, waved his wand and the stone bowl appeared in his hand. After Harry deposited the memory into the bowl, the Headmaster, the staff, the Minister, the Director of International Magical Cooperation, Steven Decatur and the Director for Magical Law Enforcement, Amelia Bones, entered the bowl. Harry lay passively as Pomfrey finished dosing him with a post-Cruciatus, a pain relief and offered a dreamless sleep potion.

Harry set the dreamless sleep on his nightstand and shakily patted his bed for Gabrielle to join him. The Delacours, Weasleys and Hermione all took seats in conjured chairs within hearing distance. All wanting to do something to relieve the evident suffering in the face of the young man that they all cared about.

"Voldemort is back"

Everyone present froze in stunned disbelief, outright terror or denial. For more than one person present it was a mix of all three. Pomfrey froze in mid stride, two empty vials in her hands while Molly Weasley had a hand over her mouth and tears in her eyes.

Through her own shining eyes, Gabrielle softly said, "Tell me."

So he did. The portkey and being immediately stunned. Awakening tied up as Pettigrew stole some of his blood for the ritual. Harry broke down in tears at this point and his girlfriend cradled him to her again. "I felt so helpless and weak, so _used_. I wanted to not cooperate, I wanted to tear them limb from limb but I was tied to a tombstone."

By now, Marie, Fleur and Hermione were in tears. Marie was in Henri's arms while Fleur and Hermione held each other's hands. Molly Weasley cried on her eldest son's shoulder while Bill's eyes were noticeably bright.

Gabrielle was a pillar of comfort for her beloved and gently said, "What else?" Coaxing the pain and the poison out of him that she knew he had to carry.

The resurrection, the summoning of the Death Eaters, the duel and then the _Priori Incantatem_. All Harry could say was "my parents" and then he was in her arms again. Eventually, he described the situation with the echoes of those Voldemort had killed and then his escape to the portkey.

Silence.

He had finished his story and there was no response from his audience. There could be none. He knew they all cared for him to varying degrees, but to the substance of his story? There was no response.

He lay there soaking up the love and affection he could almost reach out and scoop up with his cupped hands and let it subconsciously begin to heal his wounds. The wounds of being used and violated for the resurrection ritual. The wounds of his parents' destruction and the subsequent years of abuse. The wounds of the repeated attacks by a wizard more animal than human. All this had been ripped open like a festering sore in a graveyard outside Little Hangleton.

Gabrielle kicked off her shoes, lay down on the bed next to him and slipped under the covers. Pomfrey didn't even blink this time, nor did her family or their friends. Harry needed the physical closeness of his lover. There was nothing sexual in this act, but it was all about the unconditional love of a woman for her man. She leaned up, grabbed the goblet of dreamless sleep potion and handed it to Harry, "Drink."

He nodded wearily. After quaffing the potion, he pulled her close and immediately began to drift into the undisturbed realm of Morpheus.

.oOo.

The next morning Harry woke up with a pressure in front of him and a face full of tickling blond hair. With a small smile he wondered, _Maybe I need to move into the Infirmary if it means I always wake up like this._

He tightened his arm around Gabrielle and she wiggled back into him. After a few moments savoring each others presence, she said, "How are you feeling this morning?"

"Better. Generally sore, but no pain."

"Good" she said. Ten seconds later she tentatively said, "How does your heart feel?"

He pulled her close to his chest and sighed. "I don't know. I feel a lot better than last night, I know that. Thanks for helping last night. It was like getting a splinter out of my heart."

She turned in his arms and they snuggled for a few minutes before they took turns using the lavatory. When he climbed back under the covers she wrapped her arms around him as he backed into her embrace. Finally, he said, "So what happened last night that I missed?"

Gabrielle paused and then said, "When you were taken, Fleur sent up a volcano of red sparks. She was so enraged, she almost transformed as she yelled at your Headmaster when she told us that you had been portkeyed away.

"Viktor had taken a beating from a Hippogriff, so he and Fleur had their injuries tended while your Headmaster sent his Phoenix off in an attempt to find you. Not too long after that, you came back."

He nodded, knowing the story after that. "And after I fell asleep?"

She snorted, "When the troupe of idiots came out of the pensieve" Harry laughed at her description, "Half the staff ran off to their quarters for brandy and your idiot Minister was pale and clammy. He was loudly proclaiming that there must be some misunderstanding. _He_ couldn't be back; Lucius and the others _couldn't_ be Death Eaters and so on."

Harry tensed as she said this. She rubbed his back and in a reassuring tone said, "Director Bones threatened to stun him and Director Decatur told him to, and I quote, 'Shut the fuck up Cornelius'."

Harry laughed out loud at that, some confidence in the Ministry restored.

"Papa then entered the pensieve. Your Headmaster was very uneasy about that, but Director Decatur seemed unconcerned, so no one objected." She massaged his shoulders a little before saying, "When he got out, he and Mama talked in a corner for a minute and then he gave Fleur and me a kiss telling us he needed to return to France immediately." She gave him an impish smile before she leaned close and whispered into his ear, "He also left another portkey. When you are able, he has instructed Mama, Fleur and I to bring you to our home." Harry's eyes widened at that.

She reached over his shoulder and pointed to a trunk that he recognized as his own. "Hermione packed for you with some help from Neville Longbottom. Fleur is packing my room now. I figure we'll be ready when you are. Mama is talking with Madame Maxime about final exams for me and Fleur."

Harry turned to face her and raised his eyebrows. Gabrielle very seriously said, "Papa was most insistent. He isn't like this at home much, and when he is, we all pay attention." Harry nodded and filed the knowledge away for future use.

Madam Pomfrey made an appearance and after running half the known diagnostic charms said he was fit enough to leave. She walked away muttering about "Constitution of an elephant, that one."

As Harry dressed, Hermione came in and embraced him with her usual rib crushing hug and more than a few tears. "Hermione, I'm Ok, really. A bit sore, but overall I'm Ok."

She nodded before glancing at his trunk and said, "You probably want to shrink that."

Harry grimaced a bit. He hated leaving her like this, but there were only a few days left in term and she'd be home with her parents. He put an arm around her shoulders and said, "Are you going to be alright for the last few days of term? Do you need me to stay?"

She shook her head and with fresh tears said, "I just feel so bad for you, Harry. You never get a break, do you?"

With a sad smile he said, "It's the Potter-Murphy law; if it can go wrong, it will with the most disastrous possible results."

All three laughed at that. Hermione turned to Gabrielle and gave her a big hug, "I'll miss you" she said to the blond girl. After breaking the embrace, she shyly asked, "We're friends, right?"

Knowing how important a question this was for Hermione, Gabrielle was touched and embraced the brunette again saying, "Absolutely, we are the best of friends."

With a muttered Shrinking charm, Harry resized his trunk and embraced Hermione again. "Tell McGonagall I've left. She'll understand."

Hermione nodded, more tears sprouting before she impatiently wiped them away, saying "It's not like I'll never see you again, it's just for the summer."

Harry looked at Gabrielle who nodded and said, "If your family holidays in France, please come stay with us. We are right on the Sea and have more than enough room. Also, I believe Papa is going to engage tutors for us this summer, so maybe you can convince your parents to let you come visit?"

With a small squeal, Hermione embraced her French friend and they all began walking out of the Infirmary, the girls locking arms and chatting on the way. Harry watched them and his heart warmed.

They left Hermione in the Entrance Hall where she said she'd inform their Head of House after dinner about Harry's departure. He smiled at her deviousness and gave her one last hug before he and Gabrielle walked down the hill to the carriages hand in hand.

In Gabrielle's room, they found Marie and Fleur chatting and a matchbox sized set of luggage on the dresser. Marie embraced Harry and then took a step back examining him closely. "You'll be alright" was all she said before hooking her arm in his and they all made their way out the carriage and to the school gates for their portkey to France.

A/N

1. I own nothing.

2. Don't expect updates on this for a while. Partners, Stand and Hippogriff all have much higher priority than this, but I wanted to get it out there so I'd stop playing with it. Rereading the previous sentence, I realize that came out totally wrong, but hey. Who cares.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Summer after Fourth Year**

"Damn."

Harry collapsed on his bed at Chateau Delacour. His arms akimbo, legs lying at odd angles, he tried to will himself into a more comfortable position, but his body overrode all other impulses and he didn't move.

Sensei Taguchi had just used the Potter Lord's body as a punching bag for the previous hour. Harry had taken six roundhouse kicks to the ribs, two to his head, been hip thrown most painfully and been the unlucky recipient of a solid left-handed jab that had broken his nose.

They had paused long enough to cast a quick Bone Knitting charm. He'd finally learned that one out of necessity.

To be fair, Gabrielle and Fleur had been beaten just as soundly as he had. Harry had scored quite a few solid hits on their instructor as well. He wasn't sure, but he might have broken the man's leg.

However, he still had a coppery taste in his mouth. Blood left a nasty aftertaste.

.oOo.

He'd been in France for three weeks now and it had been the best three weeks of his life. Sensei Taguchi had come two days after the portkey had dropped Marie, Fleur, Gabrielle and Harry on the front lawn of the Delacour family summer home.

His first day in France had been frenetic. The portkey had deposited them on the smooth front lawn of Chateau Delacour, which the family called White Rock. Before he even got his balance, Harry felt the warm summer sun on his neck, the humid Mediterranean breeze on his face and the tangy smell that most people associate with the ocean filling his senses.

"I hate portkeys," he grumbled and for a fleeting moment a look of self recrimination covered Marie's face.

Replaced with a mild amusement, she called out in a mock imperious tone, "Mes enfants, quickly, change your clothes and we are off." Marie sauntered into the house and called for the head house elf, Blinken. Harry followed Gabrielle and Fleur's lead by extracting his shrunken luggage from his pocket and setting it on the ground.

The house was massive. Its façade was constructed of what appeared to be white marble, if such a thing was possible. Harry didn't know there was this much white marble in the world until now. The three story mansion had enormous floor to ceiling windows that were all thrown open to let the land breeze waft its way through the house. The immediate grounds surrounding the house were immaculately groomed and there was a hint of a formal garden in the rear of the home.

Harry stood transfixed at the sight of the beautiful sight. Fleur caught his gaze and said, "White Rock has been in Papa's family for two hundred years. It had belonged to le Comte d'Orleans, but during the Revolution, he decided that London was more conducive to his long term health and our however many great grandfather purchased the estate. At that time, this whole area," here she swept her hand in a circle to indicate the general Cote d'Azur, "was an agricultural and fishing area. We are about thirty miles southwest of Nice on the coast road. Apparently le Comte had an affinity for growth areas" and they all smiled at her humor.

"As it stands," Gabrielle continued, "There are one hundred and fifty acres all told for the grounds. We used to have horses, but well..." and she trailed off with a sad look. Gabrielle looked at the house appraisingly and said, "Since our family purchased the home, every generation of Delacours has added to the wards. It's one of the more safe places in all of France." Her face hardened, "With that monster returned, though, I imagine Papa will have some upgrades done." The other two nodded at the conclusion of Harry's bond mate, sad that such a thing was necessary.

In an attempt to lighten the mood, Gabrielle took Harry's arm and steered him toward the house. She leaned into him and said, "This is the time where Mama takes us for a _very _quick summer clothes shopping expedition. She hates shopping; I think she is the only woman on the planet who sees it as a necessary evil and not an exquisite event to be savored and enjoyed."

Harry couldn't help but chuckle at the description. When he and Gabrielle had been shopping in London, both times had been leisurely affairs just as much about enjoying the day together as purchasing clothes. "If she wasn't somewhat modest, I think she'd go without," the young part-Veela finished with her tinkling laughter.

They walked into the house and a few _pops_ behind them announced that the family elves had collected their luggage and taken it to their rooms. Gabrielle raised her eyebrow when Marie said, "Harry, your room is on the second floor," turning to Gabrielle she informed her daughter, "He's in the Green Room."

As they went upstairs, Gabrielle gave Harry 'a look' and with a grin, she explained. "The second floor is for the family; guests are on the third floor"

With a wondrous smile, he followed the lithe form of his girlfriend up the stairs.

.oOo.

Four hours later, the three Delacour women and a frazzled Baron Potter staggered back into the entry foyer of White Rock. They were burdened with a complete summer wardrobe for each of the young adults. Marie proceeded to the main drawing room and flounced into a high backed chair. She sighed in relief as the teens dumped their purchases on the floor and the house elves once again popped in to relieve their family members of the clothes.

Henri was not at the spacious home and would not make an appearance until the end of their second week there. A note addressed to all arrived with some news and direction.

Marie relieved the owl of its burden and absently fished in her purse for an owl treat. Blinken popped in right next to her and gave the owl its treat. He gave a quick smile to his mistress and with a bow, popped out. Marie smiled and began reading.

Harry leaned back into the comfortable couch and closed his eyes letting himself relax for the first time in quite a while. He wouldn't admit it, but he had been under quite a bit of strain in the days and weeks leading up to the third task. With his oh-so-wonderful experience at the end of the task, well, he was having quite a hard time letting his guard down.

A soft hand pushed him into position and Gabrielle laid her head on his shoulder, wrapping her free hand around him. Wrapping his own hand around her shoulder, they sat there and Harry could feel the tension begin to ebb out of him.

He didn't know much about love or relationships. His example had been child abusers. One lesson he _had_ learned from Hermione and now Gabrielle and her family was an important one: emotional and physical safety. He felt fairly safe here at White Rock.

A throat clearing brought the two young lovers out of their restful daze and Harry saw Marie holding out the letter she had just received.

Silently taking the letter, he held it so he and Gabrielle could read it.

_Dearest, _

_I have been quite occupied here. At the news of the Dark Lord's rebirth, some have been horrifically blasé. They obviously do not remember the swath of destruction his Death Eaters created during his last terror campaign. _

_At the Privy Council meeting, the Minister and the other department chiefs watched my memory of Harry's experience in the Auror Chief's pensieve. When we finished the memory, all of us were pale and shaken. Marcel Beaufort, the Interior Minister, ran for the lavatory and was promptly sick. When we had collected ourselves, there was a wonderfully decisive meeting. Monday, the Minister is approaching Le Confederation Magique for a wartime footing declaration. Please tell Harry that he may be needed as a witness for this convocation in order to verify the memory's accuracy and answer any questions not immediately evident from the memory._

_Magical Law Enforcement is calling up all reserve Aurors and increasing recruitment efforts. I heard MLE and Magical Research discussing time compression methods in an attempt to push Auror recruits through the training faster._

_All this is good, and I have more news that I must force myself to consider as good news as well. I asked for and obtained from Denis Cleary, our chief Auror trainer, a list of personnel he could suggest to train our three summer residents in the practice of defending themselves. Sensei Taguchi will be arriving via Floo first and will teach non magical combat. He will be staying the summer. Martin Beaucort, a retired Auror will arrive in two weeks and work on magical combat, he shall Floo in daily. I have prevailed upon Madame Maxime to allow (and coerce if necessary), Madame LeCroix and Monsieur Trevail to tutor our threesome in some advanced Charms and Transfiguration. I have not heard the results yet, but I expect success and soon. Olympe is fully aware of the need._

_I am sorry that it was necessary for me to leave immediately that night. I wish I could have been of more direct use to you, Fleur, Gabrielle and even Harry; he seems like a good solid lad for our Angel. I shall be home the week after next. The Minister has decided that we need to establish closer ties to Britain and also sound the alarm in a joint declaration from France and the UK. None of us want the expected conflict to spread (too much) to the Continent. _

_I love and miss you_

_Henri_

Obviously, more was said in some of the wonderfully vague or unfinished sentences throughout the letter, but the stated items were relieving to Harry. At least the French were taking him seriously. Before they left Hogwarts, he had no idea if the British Ministry was going to act on his experience. DMLE Director Bones and Foreign Minister Decatur had both interviewed him, but Fudge was still acting like an opium addled old fool.

Underneath his relief at the French Ministry's reaction there was a current of fear. This was all real, not some wacko dream that had sprung from his subconscious and would fade away in the harsh noon light.

He was very much looking forward to the extra training and from the look of it, Henri Delacour wanted his girls involved as well. It seemed that no matter what happened in his life, Voldemort would be involved, mucking about and making a general nuisance of himself.

When Gabrielle relaxed back on his shoulder, he handed the letter to Fleur who read it in her turn. Settling back on the couch with his girlfriend tucked into his side; he decided that some things can wait until tomorrow.

Harry went up to the Green Room that evening and passed out as his head hit the pillow. The tension, the activity all of it caught up to him and bore him down like a twenty foot wave.

.oOo.

The next morning he woke, swimming up to consciousness to a little slice of heaven. The windows had been opened around sunrise and the fresh, warm breeze wafted into the room spreading a delicious scent; the combination of the sea and a flower that Harry couldn't pinpoint, yet was mysteriously wonderful.

He dressed in shorts and a new shirt. Barefoot, he padded down to breakfast. Kissing Gabrielle on the top of the head, he plated up a hearty breakfast from the sideboard and sat next to her while Marie and Fleur split the newspaper.

Fleur had the front page section and from his vantage point, Harry could see POTTER WINS TRIWIZARD AND DISSAPPEARS followed underneath by YOU-KNOW-WHO RESURRECTED. Harry snorted in disgust before digging into his eggs.

He looked up and saw Marie watching him with an elegantly shaped eyebrow raised. He nodded at Fleur holding the paper and answered the unspoken question, "Cowards won't even say Voldemort's fake name." She seemed to consider his statement for a bit, her face troubled before resuming her reading.

"Harry," asked Gabrielle, "Is there someone to whom you should write a note regarding your whereabouts?" as she nodded to the paper Fleur was reading.

"Not the Dursleys," he answered in an undertone. Rubbing his jaw he didn't notice all the Delacours' faces darken at that name.

"Dumbledore?" continued Marie.

Harry almost spat out "Screw him," but caught himself in time. "I suppose I should write my godfather and let him know." He traded a knowing look with Gabrielle who shook her head imperceptibly. She had not told her family about Sirius and his innocence.

"Oh, good, dear. Who is your godfather?" Marie asked as she resumed her section of the paper.

With a grin his father would have been proud of, Harry waited until Fleur had taken a sip of her coffee and he replied in an offhand tone, "Sirius Black."

Fleur spit her coffee. Marie tore her paper in half in her haste to pull it down and Gabrielle laughed so hard she fell off her chair.

"What!" the elder Delacour women shouted.

Through his laughter Harry explained the events of Halloween 1981 and the following day, as well as, the saga that was his third year.

Marie frowned again, for a different reason this time. "Well, feel free to write to him. Let me talk to Henri before you give him the Floo address, though."

Blinken popped into the Breakfast Room and announced, "Monsieur Jean-Paul DeGaulle to see Mademoiselle Gabrielle."

Harry turned to Gabrielle just as she wiped a look of surprise off her face. Without looking at him, she stood and left the room

Harry glanced at the remaining two women and saw them exchange a fleeting look. Losing his battle with impatience and a sudden swelling of jealousy, Harry asked, "Would either of you two mind explaining what is going on?"

Fleur shot a quick look at her mother and replied, "Jean-Paul is a long time acquaintance of Gabrielle's."

"Oh."

Harry slowly rose from the table, dropped his napkin saying, "Breakfast was wonderful, thank you Madame," and walked out of the room.

His feet took him out into the garden in the back of the house. With a cursory glance, he saw the beauty of the artistic planting, cultivation and pruning of the beautiful plants. Instead of savoring the beauty, he stuffed his hands in his pockets and prowled the paths like a panther stalking for prey.

In his heart, he was torn by the conflict between his common and uncommon sense. He wanted to believe what his heart was screaming at him; _Gabrielle would never cheat on me, she would never leave me, she loved only me._

Some other part of him had sprouted horns and was whispering in his ear. _She really didn't want the useless freak from under the stairs. Who would after all?_

He walked for a bit, not knowing where he went. The longer she was occupied with Jean-Paul what's-his-name the louder and more insistent the whisper became in his ear.

Finally, he turned a corner and Gabrielle was walking toward him. She saw him and her face brightened, relieving quite a bit of his anxiety.

She ran up to him and enfolded him in a warm, firm hug. Surprised, Harry hugged her back and felt the envy and jealousy drain out of him even more. "I'm sorry mon cher," she said.

"For what?"

"When I had finally escaped from the barely polite discussion with Jean-Paul, Mama and Fleur both excoriated me about just leaving the table without an explanation or backward glance. I did not think that you might, rightly, wonder who the man calling on me might be. I'm sorry."

Rubbing her back, he mocked himself for ever thinking badly of her. "I'm sorry, too. Back at school, you got so many looks, but not too many guys tried chatting you up. I guess with me standing there and all it was a bit of a discouragement to them. It never really occurred to me that I had competition. I'm sorry for not being more trusting." He tucked his head into her neck to hide his burning cheeks.

They stood there for a few moments before she continued, "There is no competition for you in my heart. I love you and only you. Jean-Paul and I were playmates as children. He was nice enough, but a bit of a braggart. His great-Uncle was President of France," she said in a mocking tone with raised eyebrows.

"When we reached our teen years and both of us went to Beauxbatons, he assumed that I would be his girlfriend, going so far as to announce it in the boys dormitory during first year."

Harry winced at that. "Did you hurt him badly?" he asked in a humorous undertone.

With a smirk, she answered, "Yes. Let's leave it at that, shall we? Anyway, after that - _incident_ – shall we call it? I have been no more than rigidly polite to him. He still refuses to accept that I am not deeply in love with him and want to bear twelve of his offspring." She sighed and whinged, "Sometimes, I just want to hex him into the next century. I really do."

With a smile and a nod he pulled her close. After a moment she pulled back and looked him in the eye. With a very serious expression, she declared, "I am yours. Mind, body and soul. Yours for all eternity and you are mine. I love you."

Harry bent and kissed her with all the passion and emotion that was whirling in him. The intensity of the moment started the wind to blow around them and after a few moments they broke the kiss and held each other, trying to catch their breath.

"This is a really beautiful garden," he commented to her with a smile.

.oOo.

After lunch, Sensei Taguchi arrived and talked to the three teens about their training and what it would entail. He handed them lists of the exercise they were to do outside of the formal training sessions and explained the reasons behind the tasking.

"Most magical persons are lazy," he bluntly explained. "They use magic for everything and forget or ignore their body. Not only can you use your body as a weapon, but by conditioning your body, you will increase your magical stamina. Some witches and wizards even get a mild boost in overall magical power."

Nodding at the logic, the three students read their lists and eyes widened. In front of them was an exercise regimen that was appropriate for a triathalete who was ramping up for an event.

"Tomorrow, we will begin with basic katas and the most important lesson that I will impart to you this week: how to fall. Do your exercises alone or together, I care not. Just do them." The man rose, half bowed to his students, who rose and returned the gesture. Blinken popped in and escorted the Sensei to his room.

"So, do you all want to work out together? Pour encourager les autres?" Harry asked with a smile.

Fleur looked at him with a beady eye and corrected him, "Wrong use of the phrase, mon frère, but yes, I think we should exercise together." Gabrielle nodded in assent.

"Great. Before breakfast then?"

"Sure."

"Yes."

Gabrielle asked, "What are you doing for your NEWTs?"

Fleur made a face and replied, "Next week I'll take them at school. Papa got me a waiver to take them at a different time than the rest of my class."

"So, lots of studying for you this week?" Harry enquired.

Fleur waved her hand in a 'so-so' motion. "I've been revising all term. I feel fairly confident in my topics; I really just need to review some of the history topics and some Transfiguration theory. I will be ready. I hope," she finished with a sigh.

Fleur stood and went up to her room, presumably to study. Gabrielle tugged her bond mate out of his chair and asked, "Do you know the Sunscreen charm?"

"Yes."

"Good, go put on your swimmers and we will go to the beach."

The beach was beautiful. Something out of an advertisement for the Cote d'Azur. Harry didn't see much of it. He tried not to stare, he really did. But as his laughing girlfriend reminded him, he was male after all.

After a few hours of surreptitiously ogling his bond mate, he and Gabrielle returned to the house to find Marie waiting for them on the Veranda.

"Your father has obtained permission for you to use magic outside of school," she informed her daughter as she handed Gabrielle a piece of parchment authorizing said behavior. "You also have some homework" and she waved her hand to the two stacks of books on the table. "Start reading and practicing what you find. Speed is essential in this case."

Since they had a few hours before dinner, they quickly cleaned up and started reading. Harry took _Transfiguration Explained_, while Gabrielle selected _Charms for the Charmed._

So began their accelerated magical training for the summer. Madame LeCroix and Monsieur Trevail arrived a few days later and both put Harry through his paces, to see where he stood. As expected, he was at a post fourth year/mid fifth year level for Transfiguration, but was at the end of sixth year with a smattering of post NEWT charms in his quiver.

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

_FOUR BRITISH MUGGLE FAMILIES TORTURED TO DEATH_

_DEATH EATERS BELIEVED RESPONSIBLE_

.oOo.

Monday arrived and with it his testimony in front of the French magical legislature, Le Confederation Magique.

He first felt the tingle of magic in his mouth of all places that morning. The tingle was shortly followed by soft lips on his own. He tried not to smile, but had a little fun anyway.

Pulling back a bit, he groaned, "Oh, Fleur."

The lips were promptly removed and a sharp crack on the side of his head woke him fully.

Laughing, he opened his eyes and squinted. Even through the haze of his farsighted vision, he could tell Gabrielle was standing next to his bed, her arms crossed. She smacked him again, only increasing his laughter. He grabbed his glasses and saw her struggling to maintain a stern expression.

Reaching for her, he said, "I'm sorry, it was just too funny."

"See how funny it is when you want some more Gabrielle kisses lonely man."

Pouting, he sat up and gathered her into his arms, "No more kisses?"

"Non."

He kissed her neck and she responded by wrapping her arms around his neck with a groaning sigh.

"Are you sure?"

Her response was muffled by their lips joining.

.oOo.

An hour later, he was washed, dressed and being inspected by all the Delacour ladies. Marie had picked out his outfit the night before so that only needed some straightening.

Fleur was pulling at his robes, fussing with the way they lay off his shoulders. Marie was standing back, evaluating the entire package while Gabrielle walked around him, looking at his hemlines and the finer points of his dress. He felt like a side of beef being inspected by quality control. At some point, he'd lost track of who was commenting on what part of him.

"His hair is cute, but there must be a way to tame it."

"The glasses either need to be replaced or he needs the potion."

"I like the hair, it gives him character."

"The robes look good on him. Small amounts of bright colors livening up dark. It works well on him."

"Those shoes will do for today, but he needs different ones for the future."

And so it went.

Finally, he was released from their scrutiny and given a portkey for Paris so as to be whisked away. A stumbling landing in Henri Delacour's spacious office later, he was greeted by the man he hoped would be his father-in-law someday.

Standing from his desk, the older man said, "Come, Harry. Your testimony starts in twenty minutes."

It was a short walk to a rotunda style amphitheatre that housed Le Confederation Magique. Henri led the young man to a large table that faced the most ornate section of the circular seating area that was full to the bursting with witches and wizards.

Henri sat in one of the two chairs at the table and indicated the other chair in which Harry sat. They were silent as the Door Warden called the assembly to order. After everyone settled, a large, bearded man rose from his ornate seat that was directly in front of Harry and Henri.

"President Balfour," Henri murmured to Harry.

The President cut to the chase and said, "We are gathered here today to bear witness to the disturbing news from Britain. Monsieur le Baron Potter has been so kind as to come here and willingly share his memories of the horrifying night not so long ago."

A man pushed a cart in the room that held the largest pensieve Harry had ever seen. It had to be five feet across. By the time the man had stopped in front of the table, Harry had his wand to his temple to remove the memory of the end of the third task through his return portkey.

Henri had been quite insistent in a follow up letter that he start the memory in the maze so that no one would dispute the authenticity of the memory.

Standing, Harry went around the table and deposited the memory in the huge stone bowl. It looked quite odd sitting there; a small puddle of silver in the expansive bowl.

The President asked Harry, "Monsieur le Baron, for forms sake, I must ask you to confirm that the memory that you have deposited in the presentation pensieve is your true memory of the events of the evening of June the 24th 1994."

Nodding, Harry answered, "Yes, sir, the memory I just deposited in the presentation pensieve is my true memory of the events of the evening of June the 24th 1994."

The technician placed his wand on one of the runes ringing the lip of the pensieve and a huge three dimensional representation of Fleur appeared above the bowl.

Henri hid a smile. He hadn't expected this level of gamesmanship from Harry. Not only was he starting off the memory with a French citizen as the focus, but a beautiful French citizen.

"Monsieur le President, at the end of the third task of the Triwizard Tournament, I had successfully navigated a maze and ended at a clearing which held the Triwizard Cup itself. Since there had been numerous obstacles ranging from a Minotaur to a Confundus Mist, I was examining the Cup for other traps. At that point, Mademoiselle Delacour, the Beauxbatons champion, entered the clearing at which point the memory begins."

An older man sitting to the right of the President spoke up, "You fought a Minotaur young man?"

"Yes, sir. It was a most formidable opponent."

There was quite a bit of murmuring at Harry's answer and Henri had to hide his smile behind his hand. He did like this young man.

Balfour looked about and saw no other questions so he nodded to the technician and the memory began to play.

Having lived the nightmare, Harry had no desire to watch it again. There were many gasps at the dramatic moments and even weeping when Harry was placed under the Cruciatus. There were no questions, no interruptions.

At the end of the memory there was silence. In a strange way, the silence reverberated about the room, amplifying any sound. It was a bit unnerving for Harry to be in the large room with over four hundred people and the only noise was that of respiration.

Finally, Henri stood. In the quiet amphitheater, he looked down at Harry for a moment and then began to applaud the young man. Slowly, he clapped for the young man seated next to him, each time his hands came together, the sharp retort echoed loudly in the room. President Balfour stood and joined his Foreign Minister in applauding Harry. In ones and twos, Le Confederation Magique joined their leaders until Harry was the subject of a standing ovation.

Henri leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear. Blushing furiously, the young man stood and bowed first to the President and then to the major sections of the amphitheater. The applause slowly died down and eventually all the members took their seats.

"Thank you for sharing this incredibly personal and painful memory, Monsieur le Baron." Looking around the chamber, Balfour found a few hands raised. Nodding, he asked Harry, "Would you be open to answering a few questions for us?"

.oOo.

Surprisingly, the questions had been quite simple: where was the graveyard, was the cup intended to be a portkey, was it known who enchanted the cup?

Answering to the best of his ability, Harry laid out what he did and did not know for the legislative body. The body was quite disturbed that no one knew who had enchanted the Cup to act as a portkey.

At one point, a pinch-faced man stood and asked, "Monsieur Potter is it true that you are the bond mate of Foreign Minister Delacour's younger daughter?"

President Balfour leapt out of his seat and began castigating the questioner. Henri leaned over to Harry and whispered, "Don't answer any questions of that sort."

Harry nodded and then indicated the President who was red faced in his rebuke of the offensive man. "I gather he's an ally?"

Henri smiled and answered, "He is making very high ratings now for being the 'responsible President.' By protecting you it fits that image. Plus you are a member of the Wizengamot and a Peer who has volunteered to testify. It is bad form to be rude to you."

Shaking his head, Harry wished that reporters and politicians would always refrain from rude behavior.

The session ended with a seemingly heartfelt expression of gratitude by the President. They returned to Henri's office where the older man indicated a chair for Harry to sit.

After providing tea for his guest, Henri regarded Harry quietly. Harry didn't show signs of nervousness under the close scrutiny. With a small laugh, Henri thought, _The young man has faced You-Know-Who four times and survived, why should I make him nervous?_ The answer hit him like a thunderbolt. _Because he loves my daughter._

Shaking his head, Henri sighed. Harry tensed, afraid that he was about to be scolded for his bold behavior. "Harry, you did very well back there." The young Briton relaxed at that statement.

"And it brought up something that I wasn't sure about until now. You have sufficient wealth to take care of my Angel in the style she is accustomed. You can protect her as well or better than most men." The older man shook his head in a worried fashion. "This situation with You-Know-Who is disturbing, but we are doing what we can."

Looking Harry in the eye, Henri said, "I wasn't sure at first if I approved of you as a match for Gabrielle. The more I have come to know you, the more comfortable I become in the…situation."

Henri exhaled loudly and said, "My daughter is very young, Harry. You are very young. Unfortunately, experience both good and bad has aged you both far beyond your years. Magic itself is telling my daughter that you are the one for her. Despite my reluctance, I cannot disregard that fact.

"I love my daughter very much and would do anything for her. In this case, I will let you love her and she you."

Quite choked up with emotion, Harry nodded to the man and rasped, "Thank you."

Gathering his wits, Harry sat up straight and said, "Sir, as Head of House Potter, I'd like to establish a marriage contract between Harry James Potter and Gabrielle Vivienne Delacour."

.oOo.

When he had left after breakfast, Marie had been very reassuring to Gabrielle that Harry would be fine and return home soon. Nonetheless, Gabrielle had set a chair in the Entrance Hall right in front of the fireplace and began to sit in it, waiting for him.

The hours stretched on and her nerves increased. Lessons were canceled for the day which gave her time to feed the visions of Death Eater attacks, rogue Chimeras, French politicians seeking vengeance for a real or perceived British offenses going back to the Hundred Years War.

Her temper began to sizzle as her fears increased. Pacing back and forth in front of the fireplace, she began a string of curses that would have shocked her mother had she heard them.

At lunchtime, Blinken popped into the entry hall but made a hasty retreat when Gabrielle scowled mightily at him. Now, she was an afraid and hungry part Veela with an active imagination

Not good.

Fleur walked through the entry hall reading a book as she strolled. The poor girl was unprepared for the blast of vitriol from her younger sister. After the first wave exhausted itself, Fleur cocked an eyebrow and asked, "Harry is not back yet?"

"NO, and it is driving me mad!"

Softly smiling, Fleur embraced her younger sister while whispering to her, "He is well and will return soon."

"I have this horrible feeling that something is very wrong and he is dead in a ditch somewhere."

Fleur laughed. Her amused laughter trilled and echoed in the marble hall. Gabrielle pouted and finally poked her sister in the ribs. "Stop it, I'm serious."

"Oh, Angel. Harry is fine. Have you eaten?"

Gabrielle shook her head so Fleur grabbed her sister by the elbow and said, "Come, Blinken will have saved something for you in the kitchen."

After eating, Fleur dragged her sister outside to the gardens. "We will take a walk, maybe work on our tans while we await his return." Gabrielle's mood had improved, but the underlying worry about him was still gnawing at her. Nodding, she let herself be led outside.

The fireplace roared to life around four and the Floo disgorged a dizzy Harry Potter.

"Damn, that's a long way to be spinning," he muttered from the floor.

A rapid _click-clack_ of shoes on the floor signaled Gabrielle's arrival. She knelt next to him, a relieved expression on her face. Touching him all over she asked, "Are you alright?"

Puzzled, he replied, "Yeah. Why wouldn't I be?"

Now her temper sizzled again, "Because you have been gone for eight hours and didn't let us know what was going on! Because I have had the worst feeling that you were dead somewhere and I couldn't help you! Because you are an inconsiderate _man_ who didn't even consider giving a Floo call to tell me that things were Ok!" With the last pronouncement, she stabbed him in the chest with her forefinger and stalked away, leaving a very confused Harry Potter behind.

.oOo.

Gabrielle was in her room. She simmered as she flounced from bed to chair and back. Roughly cuddling the stuffed pony she'd had since she was very little, she muttered, "Idiot. He doesn't understand, does he?"

A tentative knock on the door revealed Harry with a borderline frightened expression on his face.

"May I come in?"

She nodded sharply and he took a seat. The chair in the corner of her room was a holdover from the days when her mother would calm her when she was ill or her father would sit with her to 'drive away the monsters' that lived in her closet or under her bed.

He was looking in his lap at his linked hands when he began to speak, "I'm sorry I didn't Floo call that the testimony went well. I got caught up talking with your father and lost track of time." He looked up at her, his eyes full of anguish, "I'm really sorry."

"What was so important that you didn't even remember calling your bond-mate?"

Harry didn't say anything, he just reached into his robes, withdrew a rolled sheet of parchment and handed it to her.

Thrown off guard, she took the parchment with a quizzical expression. Unrolling it, she read the header: _Marriage Contract between the Ancient and Noble House of Potter and the Most Righteous and Royal House of Delacour._

"Oh."

Now he was really worried. He'd expected Gabrielle to be happy or at least pleased. This non-reaction was troubling. She turned her face to Harry and he saw a tear on her cheek.

Without consciously considering, he moved to the bed, sitting next to her. Wiping the tear away with the pad of his thumb, he asked, "What's wrong?"

"I am such a bitch."

Embracing her, he murmured, "No, you're mine and I cannot love someone so…so like _that_."

"Why isn't it signed?" she asked.

Loosing his hold on her, he explained, "Your father and I negotiated through the afternoon but he wouldn't sign it until my family solicitors had reviewed it. He wanted to have a clear conscience that he didn't take advantage of my inexperience."

Her expression became radiant and her smile was a beacon of love. Whispering in his ear, she asked, "Soon we will be married?"

He smiled back and answered her, "Yes."

Lying back on her bed she kicked off her shoes and indicated toward the door with her hand. "Close the door my love and cast a Imperturbable charm."

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

_PROMINENT BRITISH WIZENGAMOT LEADER FOUND DEAD_

_DARK MARK CAST OVER HOME_

.oOo.

Harry inquired via Gringotts Paris if his family had solicitors on record. When the reply came with a name and address he wrote a cover letter of introduction, copied the marriage contract and sent it off with Hedwig.

He stood on the veranda watching Hedwig fly away when familiar arms wrapped around him from behind. Smiling, he covered her arms with his own and leaned back into her.

"It's almost like Christmas," she offered.

"Hmm?" he closed his eyes and enjoyed her embrace, the warm sun and the sea breeze.

"The anticipation. When the legalities are all done the whole world will know that I am yours and you are mine. It's exciting for me." She turned him in her arms and kissed him softly.

With a hint of fear in his eyes, he asked, "I want to check and make sure: do you want to do this?"

She gave him a soft smile, nodded and then kissed him with all the passion she could muster. Soon they broke away before they lost control. The other day in her bedroom much clothing had been shed but they still had not made love. By mutual concurrence they had held back from the final step.

He held her close and she snuggled into his chest. Still amazed after being together for months, he savored the exquisite feeling of closeness that holding his love awoke in his chest.

"How is your shoulder?" she asked.

He rolled it and answered, "It's been better, I sure won't fall that way again." They both chuckled at his statement. In training with Sensei Taguchi, Harry had been thrown and instead of rolling with the fall, he'd tried to stop his fall by extending his arms. Nearly dislocating his shoulder had been a stiff lesson but it had been learned well.

She led him to a couch that had an old oak tree overhanging the veranda, providing shade. Their studies had been quite intense the last few weeks. Fleur had finished her NEWTs and after a few days to recuperate, had joined the Defense training, as well as, the hand-to-hand instruction.

Martin Beaucourt was a gruff old man who was constantly complaining about "Children today not following the old ways. Not respecting their elders," and so on.

He was also fanatical about offensive spellfire.

"If you can't hit them, you can't beat them!" he chanted to the three students when performing accuracy exercises. Harry was distinctly reminded of Mad-Eye Moody and wondered if all long-term Law Enforcement Officers suffered from an obsession of some kind. Maybe it was that they survived so long because they had an obsession.

Beaucourt conjured bubbles for them to hit with Bone Breaking curses, conjured chipmunks to hit with Reductor curses, conjured floating glass beads to hit with Piercing charms.

Their first day with him he had them line up in the back garden and looked them over speculatively. Shaking his head, he walked back to the house muttering.

Fleur, in particular, was a bit put off. She'd finished her NEWTs and done quite well. Now that she was a fully qualified witch, she expected a bit more than the cursing and mutters they'd all received so far. There was quite a surprise in store for her when she politely mentioned this to Beaucourt.

"You silly little girl," he had sneered at her. "Passing those tests signifies that you know just enough to begin real learning! Now get back on the line and keep casting at your dummy!"

After that, no one complained about the old man's training methods.

He'd sit in a conjured chair, smoking his pipe as the three students demonstrated the five spells he'd assigned them to learn for that day. Put together with the high intensity Charms work from Madame LeCroix and the Transfiguration from Monsieur Travail, there wasn't much time for fun in the sun.

"Come, love," Gabrielle called to Harry. "Let us do our reading down at the beach today."

He nodded and closed his copy of _Advanced Transfiguration_ and joined her. Holding hands, they meandered down the path to the beach.

Settling on a conjured blanket, Gabrielle rested her head on Harry's shoulder and sighed. "I miss this. Just you and me."

Harry nodded in agreement. They hadn't had much time to themselves. Studying and exercise dominated their time and energy. "What do you say we study together like this? Just the two of us?"

She smiled and kissed his hand that she was holding. "I love you, mon cher."

"I love you too."

With another sigh, she straightened and opened her book. Harry opened his and began to re-read the section regarding the 8th Universal Law of Transfiguration and how to apply it. He'd actually improved dramatically in Transfiguration. Where the art was once a weakness for him, it was becoming a strength.

Monsieur Travail was able to communicate effectively what McGonagall, Hermione and Gabrielle had all tried but failed. It was about a combination of belief and intent. Now that he understood what Transfiguration was about, it was as if a light had illuminated his entire understanding.

Smiling to himself, he shucked off his shirt and lay on his stomach to read.

An hour later, they were surrounded by the results of their practice. Sand crabs had been transfigured into turtles whose shells were charmed various colors of the rainbow.

"I like that one," Gabrielle giggled.

Harry laughed at the flashing pink turtle. Its expression was somehow indignant.

A spray of sand announced Fleur's arrival. "I got the job!" she shouted.

"Gringotts?"

"Yes!" and she tackled Gabrielle in a hug.

Harry laughed at the two as they rolled around on the sand laughing and carrying on like loons. "I'm happy for you Fleur. Which branch?"

"London," she answered with an impish smile.

Gabrielle faked a puzzled expression and asked, "Isn't Bill Weasley now working out of the London Branch, Harry?"

Tapping his chin in mock thoughtfulness, he answered, "I think so. I'd have to check, but I think he is."

With the smile of a hungry wolf, Fleur said, "Oh, he is. He most definitely is."

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

_BRITISH MINISTER FUDGE SPEAKS OUT AGAINST PANIC_

"_YOU-KNOW-WHO IS NO THREAT"_

.oOo.

Henri returned from Paris that evening and the family had a feast to celebrate Fleur's new position. Harry was enthralled by the laughter and love that infused the atmosphere. Henri and Marie's expressions were full of love and pride for their eldest child. He tried to avoid it, but couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy.

From across the table, Gabrielle caught his eye and smiled brilliantly at him. His return smile helped banish his negative feelings. This was his family now also. Or would be soon which widened his smile even further.

As the dessert was cleared away and coffee served, Blinken appeared next to Harry. "This came for you during dinner, sir." Accepting the missive, Harry thanked the very serious house elf and set the letter aside.

Henri sipped his coffee and said, "Go ahead, Harry. Don't stand on formality with us."

Nodding, Harry opened the letter and smiled. After reading for a bit, he looked across to Gabrielle and explained, "Hermione says she is well and that she explained to her parents about your offer for them to come stay." Turning to Henri, he asked, "Would next week be an imposition for the Grangers to visit?"

Being a smart man, Henri turned to his wife and shrugged. Marie rolled her eyes at her husband and asked, "How many in the family, Harry?"

"Three."

Waving her hand dismissively, Marie answered, "It is no problem. We would love to have your friend and her parents stay. We aren't traveling for the rest of the summer, so anytime is acceptable."

.oOo.

The next week was bittersweet for Gabrielle and to a lesser extent, Harry. She was truly happy for her sister. Fleur was spreading her wings and becoming independent. It was something that all young adults yearn for, yet Gabrielle couldn't help a tear or two as she watched Fleur buzz about the house, packing her belongings.

One such day, Fleur found her sibling out on the grounds having a good cry. Gabrielle had been trying every trick she could to be happy for her sister and not dwell on how much she'd miss the older girl. None of them worked.

"Angel?" Fleur asked softly. "What makes you so sad?" She slowly enveloped her beloved younger sister in a hug.

"I'm going to miss you so much!" Gabrielle sobbed and then let loose with her tears.

Unbeknownst to the ladies, Harry walked up behind them and stopped a short distance away. "Harry is wonderful. I love him with all my heart, but you are different."

Harry looked at his feet and silently sighed. He knew he'd never be enough for Gabi, but now she had confirmed it for him.

Fleur gently rocked her sister for a bit. Softly she murmured, "Family is always important. Mama and Papa have taught me that. No matter where I am, Angel, you are my sister and I love you like no other."

Gabrielle nodded into her sister's blouse and began to calm. Fleur continued to hold Gabrielle, a few tears of her own tracked down her cheeks. "I'll miss you as well. Take good care of yourself and let Harry take good care of you. He loves you, you know that?"

The younger sister nodded again, but was silent. Fleur's head twitched to the side as Harry shifted his weight and scraped against a tree he stood next. "If I'm not mistaken," Fleur said with a hint of humor, "Your beloved is here to claim you from me."

Harry shuffled up to the seated pair. Gabrielle looked up and after a short burst of Veela magic to clear her tearstained face, stood into his waiting arms.

Fleur smiled at the scene, stood and embraced the couple. Kissing each on the cheek, she murmured, "Take care of each other," and headed to the house.

Finally, Gabrielle's breath evened and Harry asked, "Alright?"

She nodded and replied, "I'm Ok. I'll just miss her a lot."

Harry was silent. He had no experience of family or losing a loved one to separation to draw on, so he stayed quiet and just held her. She eventually pulled him to the ground. He leaned against the tree and she leaned on his chest, firmly snuggled between his legs. Puling her close, he took a deep breath with his nose in her hair and inhaled the unique scent that was his Gabi.

With a slight smile, he sat there and they watched the sun sink beneath the waves. When the sun was buried beneath the waves in its age-old oscillation, Gabrielle rubbed Harry's leg and whispered, "Thank you for being here, mon cher. I needed you and you held me. Thank you."

"I didn't know what else to do. I'm glad I could help."

Pushing him flat, she straddled his waist and leaned over, her hair shrouding their faces. "You did."

The last light of the day saw the young lovers entwined in the grass of the Delacour Estates at White Rock.

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

_ATTACK IN HOGSMEADE, SCOTLAND – TEN DEAD, MANY WOUNDED_

_YOU-KNOW-WHO SEEN AT MASSACRE SITE!_

.oOo.

Fleur and Marie left the next day. Neither of the elder Delacours were very happy with Fleur's decision to move to Britain – Voldemort had just been resurrected after all. However, they were attempting to let her fly on her own. That didn't preclude them from 'taking precautions' as Henri explained to Fleur. Marie had already contacted the best warders in Britain, Phalanx Home Defense and Warders.

Gabrielle vacillated between being sad about Fleur leaving and excitement for Hermione's visit. The day the Grangers were to arrive, she and Harry were wandering through the gardens hand-in-hand. They'd stop every so often to kiss and cuddle, but mostly they were enjoying a day off from their intense training schedule.

They were sitting on a bench, Harry's head in her lap, when scurrying feet approached. Harry saw Gabrielle wave so he twisted around and saw his oldest friend approaching, a big smile on her face.

After suitable hugging and greetings, the threesome sat for a bit. Hermione gushed about the beauty of White Rock for quite a while before Harry could ask, "Did anything come of my leaving school early?"

Hermione shook her head. "Not really. Professor McGonagall was pretty low, though. She asked if you planned to return next year. I think she could tell I was lying when I told her I wasn't sure. She just nodded in a sad way before telling me to be off. I didn't see the Headmaster at all."

Gabrielle had a mischievous grin when she asked, "And Viktor? How was that goodbye?"

Hermione blushed to the roots of her hair before she muttered, "It was fine."

When Harry and Gabrielle finished laughing, Hermione's face turned sad. "I've some bad news."

"Oh?" Harry stiffened as he sat next to his intended.

"My parents won't let me go to Beauxbatons."

.oOo.

Dinner was decidedly uncomfortable for Harry. On the one hand, he was very excited to see Hermione. She was his oldest friend and he still marveled that the bushy haired witch had stayed by him during the various trials they'd been through their first four years at Hogwarts. Their friendship was a large part of his emotional bedrock that helped keep him sane when Dark Lords and Dementors descended upon him. In the end, he enjoyed being with her: nagging, pushiness and part time condescension aside.

His discomfort sprang directly from these feelings. The other hand was quite plain; they were going to be separated. No matter their collective resolve, it was very difficult to maintain long distance friendships, especially at the level of emotional intimacy they'd developed over the years. The level of trust, comfort and liking they had for the other was very hard to maintain via a piece of parchment.

He didn't know how to reconcile the two differing states. Wanting to have his oldest friend in his life conflicted with his attendance at Beauxbatons. Changing from Beauxbatons was not optional for him. He had to be with the woman to whom, very soon, he would be married

However, what would he do about Hermione? His relationship with her, despite the various ups and downs, was an integral part of him. It was huge for him and he was truly seeing that for the first time now that she was being taken away from him.

Narrowing his eyes in concentration, he thought, _But what I have with Gabrielle is so much more_. The loving, open, trusting relationship he had with his bond mate made his friendship with Hermione look like a passing acquaintance. With a rueful smile to himself, he was reminded of an essential fact.

_I'm a very lucky guy to have the both of them in my life_.

The Grangers were fluent in French, like their daughter, so the elder Delacours and Grangers conversed easily. Henri was very curious as to the mood of what has been considered the backbone of Britain for hundreds of years; the middle and upper middle class.

Steven Granger glanced at his wife Jennifer and then told Henri, "Well, we don't have a lot of interaction with the magical community. We take the daily paper, but that's just so we can keep a hand in, you see. With us being non-magical, we aren't really comfortable moving in magical society."

"It's so incredibly bigoted," added Jennifer.

All seven of the table's occupant nodded at the uncomfortably true observation.

The wonderful meal wrapped up and the Grangers made their goodnights, traveling had tired them out. As the visitors headed to the third floor and their rooms, Gabrielle took Harry's hand and murmured, "Come, my love. Let us take a walk in the gardens. The moon is near full and the breeze is wonderful."

Slowly they meandered through the paths and walkways. Every so often, she would come close and wrap her arm around his waist, him returning the gesture.

She could almost sense his conflict and was frustrated in that she didn't know what to do to restore him to harmony. Little did she realize that Harry had experienced the same dilemma when Gabrielle had struggled with Fleur's leaving.

Finally, Harry stopped, sighed loudly and pulled her close. After a long, firm embrace, he whispered in her ear, "I shall miss her greatly."

Incredible sadness washed over the young part Veela. She knew that Harry had very few friends, for the same reason that she had few friends. Most people wanted something from them.

From Harry, the leeches wanted to share in his celebrity limelight, his money or, for the fools, to share in his adventures. It was the reason that Harry wanted to shun his fame as the boy-who-lived. That sycophancy grated against the gears that made him who he was. Such a fundamental disagreement with the concept of an entourage ensured he would have few friends. He wanted friends who liked him for his character, his personality. Not the other superficial crap.

Gabrielle had no illusions about herself and 'social issues'. Marie had a very serious talk with her daughter when Gabrielle turned eight. The mother had wanted to illuminate some of the pitfalls the young witch would encounter. Veela mature far faster than humans do and Gabrielle, like her sister Fleur, had the body of a woman by the time she'd turned twelve. Far too many people wanted to be with her for one of two things. Sex or her family's money. Both types of person were repugnant to her and she could spot one of the leeches a mile away. Just as Harry could.

Hermione was special to them both because of this history. Gabrielle did not have the long term friendship with the young witch, but still cared about her and knew that Hermione genuinely cared for Gabrielle in turn. It was not a friendship that either wanted to cast aside.

She was experiencing an emotional turbulence that was vaguely reminiscent of Fleur's departure and it alarmed her.

"I don't know what to do."

Refocusing on Harry, she held him close and replied in a soft whisper, "Nor do I, mon cher."

"I can't be apart from you, yet I don't want to be apart from her. The only solution that I see is for me to smile, hug her and then wave goodbye as she boards the Hogwarts Express while we head for Beauxbatons."

Gently shaking her magnificent head in negation, Gabrielle counseled, "You don't have to solve it tonight, my love. Put it from your mind as best you can. Enjoy her being here with us and let the problem sit while we all ruminate on possible solutions."

He had her in a close embrace and with his left hand, tilted her face up to his. For a long moment, he looked into her eyes. During the daytime, his eyes were the same colour as a lush jungle, the dark green was mesmerizing. Now, in the light of the moon, his eyes looked black.

She found it incredibly sexy.

His eyes caressed her face, held her attention. Her blue bored into the seeming black of his and they silently conveyed to each other their feelings for each other and for their mutual friend.

His voice husky with emotion, he whispered, "I love you."

"And I love you."

.oOo.

Later that evening, Harry lay in his bed, staring at the ceiling. He had tried to follow Gabrielle's advice and put the Hermione situation out of his head. He had used a spare bit of parchment to work out all the possible solutions and then eliminated all those that separated him from Gabrielle. He had hoped that this would empty his head of the debate. It didn't. The permutations bounced in his head like bludgers and kept him awake. Rubbing his face in frustration, he cast about for something to distract him.

On the nightstand was a picture of him and Gabrielle that Colin Creevy had taken at the Yule Ball. The young Gryffindor had acted as the school photographer for the dance and taken an unposed picture of the couple just as a waltz ended. The Wizarding photo showed the well matched young couple dance for a few beats then back away to applaud the band. Right before the photo restarted its loop, the Harry and Gabrielle in the picture beamed at each other.

He held the magical image in his hand and watched it. His heart warmed to see the love in her face and in his own. If he looked carefully, he could see the now ever present sapphire ring on her right hand.

Just as he replaced the picture on his nightstand, the door to his bedroom opened. Shaking his head, he reached for his glasses. Harry was surprised when a bushy headed figure peeked around the doorframe looking first left then right before settling on his form in bed. Later, he chided himself; of course, she'd want to talk to him about it.

"Harry, are you awake?" she asked in a loud whisper.

"No." he answered, his smile wide.

He could almost hear her roll her eyes as she came in the room and then softly shut the door behind her. Sitting on the edge of his bed, she muttered, "Pillock."

He sat up and propped his pillow on his headboard. Drawing up his knees, he leaned on his pillow and waited.

He didn't have to wait long as she sighed and then asked, "Are you really mad at me?"

His heart sank as he realized he had been only thinking of himself. He hadn't even reassured Hermione earlier and could only imagine what she was thinking now. If it were him, he'd assume that she was relieved or even glad they weren't going to be in the same school anymore.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. I've been a complete berk. I was so upset by your news that I was only thinking of myself. I'm not even remotely mad at you. If anything, I'm shredded that we'll not be together anymore."

He choked up at the end and his words became a hoarse whisper. Hermione stifled a sob and embraced her oldest friend. They held each other for a while and then Hermione let go and then moved back a bit. She smiled and said, "Don't want Gabrielle to see us too close. Not sure if she can transform like a full blooded Veela and I don't want to gain first hand knowledge."

They both chuckled and Harry offered, "She can."

With a smile, Hermione nodded. Grabbing his toe and playfully shaking it, she offered, "I'm really going to miss you, Harry."

He nodded and replied to her unasked question, "I'm going to miss you more than I can say. You've always been there for me, unlike anyone else."

"Except Gabrielle."

"True," he admitted, acknowledging her correction. "But still, you're my oldest friend and I've been wracking my brains to try to find a solution. Gabrielle told me to try to put it from my mind. She told me we'd think on it tomorrow, but my brain won't listen."

Hermione nodded, an impish smile on her face. "Smart girl there Potter. Maybe you ought to listen to her."

Now Harry rolled his eyes at her. "Of course I listen to her. Of course I do what I'm told." Now Hermione smothered laughter with her hand. Harry joined her, not bothering to keep quiet. He grabbed his wand off the nightstand and a few deft flicks later, the room was Silenced.

"That is so not fair that you can do magic." She was wistfully looking at her own wand in her lap.

Harry shrugged, "With the wards here you could cast anything short of an Unforgivable and I doubt le Confederation would be able to detect it."

"Really?" she asked with an edge of excitement.

Laughing, he responded, "Really, really."

She glanced at the bedside clock and yawned. "I'm glad I came down. I was really worried about this."

He nodded, his shame still very bitter in his mouth. "I'm glad, too. I'm still really sorry I didn't say something earlier."

Waving him off, she gently rebuked him, "You had quite a shock and I'm sure that you would have come around in the end. At least," now she smiled, "Gabrielle would have had you come around."

He rolled his eyes playfully as she stood, squeezed his hand and offered, "Good night Harry."

"Good night, Hermione."

.oOo.

The next day Hermione joined the couple in their studies. Forgoing participating in the training with Sensei Taguchi, she watched with one eye and studied Charms with the other. As Gabrielle and Harry sparred under their gruff instructor's watchful eye, Marie sat next to the young witch.

They both winced as Gabrielle hip threw Harry only to wince again as the Potter heir bounced up and tripped his intended with a left footed leg sweep.

Marie shook her head and turned to Hermione. "Gabrielle came to my rooms last night, most upset."

Hermione closed her book and set it aside. After a pause, the young witch asked, "Oh?"

"Yes, she was very upset that you are unable to attend Beauxbatons."

A bit wide eyed, Hermione asked, "Really?"

With a light smile, the Frenchwoman answered, "Truly. She considers you a friend, not something for my daughter, either of them for that matter, to treat lightly."

Touched, Hermione nodded, "I consider Gabrielle one of my closest friends. Close in importance to Harry, in fact."

Nodding, Marie asked, "Did your parents state their reasons for denying your request to attend Beauxbatons?"

Hermione shrugged and scowled, "Dad didn't. Mum cited the increased cost and that 'it's so far away'." Hermione snorted and with real frustration said, "Beauxbatons is actually closer to our home as the crow flies!"

Marie rubbed Hermione's back, calming the young Englishwoman a bit. "I'm sure the fact that Beauxbatons is on the continent makes the distance seem farther. I know that I would be reluctant to let Gabrielle attend Hogwarts for the same reason." She paused and then added, "If I had a say in the matter any more."

Hermione looked at Marie with a quizzical expression. Marie noticed and elaborated, "The marriage contract should be signed any day. Harry is just waiting for his solicitors to review the terms."

Stunned, Hermione muttered, "I didn't know." Recovering quickly, she added, "I mean, I knew they were going to pursue a contract and Harry was going to attempt to negotiate with your husband, but I didn't know they were this far along."

"Yes, Harry and Henri negotiated the contract about a week into his stay here. Harry sent the document off to be reviewed and has been answering questions from his solicitors since." Leaning into the girl with a conspirator's smile, she said, "I think that Harry tires of the legal-speak."

With a wan smile, Hermione acknowledged the humorous truth. A long moment later, she gathered her courage and asked, "But how do you feel about them marrying so young?"

Marie sighed, "I'll admit, I never expected Gabrielle to marry first. She is young, but as I'm sure you've seen, she's as mature as any twenty year old woman."

Hermione nodded at the truth of the statement. "I don't like it at all, to tell the truth." Hermione's eyes widened, but Marie put her companion at ease. "I find Harry delightful. He is a wonderful young man who is perfect for Gabrielle. I could ask for no better husband for my Angel."

"But…"

Marie smiled, "But indeed. In the end my daughter is only fifteen and her intended is about to turn fifteen. I know that one hundred years ago marrying at this age wasn't unheard of. In fact, it was even commonplace for those of our station." Hermione bristled a bit at the 'our station' comment, but let it pass.

There was silence while Marie gathered her thoughts. "In the end, my daughter's nature as Veela has driven the situation. Her magic guarantees that Harry is her perfect mate. It also binds her to him almost as tightly as he binds himself to her."

Alarmed, Hermione asked, "He's bound to her?" She glanced out to the ring to see Harry helping Gabrielle to her feet.

"Somewhat, but not like she is to him. Not magically bound at any rate." Pausing, Marie tapped her finger on her knee until she continued, "She is devoted to him and no other. She is intelligent, beautiful, caring, fun and will be the perfect sexual partner for him. She is dedicated to him as much; if not more than, any woman can be to a man. How can he not hopelessly fall in love with her? How can he not be bound to her?"

Relieved, Hermione nodded. "I see. I was afraid that there was more to what's going on."

With a soft smile, Marie answered the unspoken question, "Just old fashioned love."

Hermione was conflicted and confused. She liked Gabrielle. She liked Harry and Gabrielle as a couple. The idea of the two fifteen year olds being married boggled her mind. However, was it beyond their ability?

She shook her head in confusion, "I'm glad I'm just their friend. I don't envy you or Monsieur Delacour one bit your position."

"We knew that our girls would live very different lives, given their heritage."

"I suppose." Hermione watched her friends in their cool down exercises and stretching. They were well matched physically; his dark to her light. They were well matched emotionally; his ingenuity and impulsiveness to balance her deliberation and strong intellect. Overlaying the entire equation was the most essential fact: they loved each other.

Nodding her acceptance, she murmured, "I approve."

From her side, Hermione heard, "You should tell them."

After a long moment of contemplation, Hermione nodded in agreement. "I will."

.oOo.

Gabrielle scooped up Harry's hand as they left their sparring area. "Come, let's walk to the beach."

The breeze had come around so that the wind was in their faces as they crested the small hill of dunes that led to the water. They continued their stroll enjoying the cool breeze and softly breaking surf.

"Hermione visited me last night."

Gabrielle raised a perfectly manicured eyebrow in an unspoken query.

"She was worried that I was mad at her." He shrugged, his guilt still very real to him.

She curled her arm around his and asked, "And did you reassure her?"

"As best I could."

Gabrielle nodded and loosened the braid in her hair. Shaking her head briskly, she ran her fingers through her tresses to loosen and untangle her platinum blond mane.

She had a look of contemplation, even resolve when she turned to him. "What is going on with the solicitors and the contract?"

Harry shook his head and raised his hands in exasperation, "They keep bringing up obscure points and issues. It's becoming quite annoying."

"Are they just delaying?"

He pursed his lips and thought, "It seems like it, but why?"

She cocked an eyebrow and replied, "Dumbledore?"

Harry's expression fell. He'd tried to put the headmaster and most of Britain behind him when he came here to White Rock. With a deep sigh, he concurred, "You're probably right."

"So?" she asked.

"I'll see what their next owl says. If there is any legitimate concerns that date since the fifteenth century and not before," she chuckled at that, "I'll go along with it. Otherwise, if they continue this game, they're fired." He looked at her with soft eyes, "I've waited long enough. We've waited long enough."

He kissed her long under the warm morning sun on the empty beach of the Cote d'Azur.

.oOo.

Dinner was much more informal and they ate on the veranda. Cook had served a wonderful seafood pasta that settled quite nicely. The conversation was moving well as the Grangers warmed to their hosts. There were a few minutes of awkwardness when the family's Veela roots were disclosed. Steven Granger in particular stared at Gabrielle like a prize leopard in the zoo.

Harry was going to do something to the man; the list included hexing, cursing or just yelling at the gawking man. Fortunately, Alice Granger cleared her throat gaining her husband's attention and glared at the man to which he nodded sheepishly.

With an indifferent mask, Gabrielle turned to Harry and raised her eyebrows, her meaning quite clear. _This is what I deal with all the time._

Harry nodded to her in understanding. _Me too_.

A red-faced Hermione leaned into Gabrielle and whispered, "I'm sorry."

Gabrielle gave her friend a gentle smile and patted her hand in answer. Dinner continued with little more than an awkward pause.

As coffee was served, Blinken handed Harry a thick letter with the message, "My Lord, this arrived during dinner."

After thanking the household's head house elf, Harry scanned the front before placing it in the inside pocket of his robes. Catching Gabrielle's eye, he winked at her. Her eyebrow cocked and she had a hopeful grin. He smiled and nodded in return. She beamed at him, loosing her Veela power for a short moment.

"Gabrielle," her mother scolded.

Steven Granger was sitting at the table looking a bit punch drunk, his wife glaring at him again. Sheepishly, Gabrielle apologized, "I'm sorry Mr. Granger."

Somewhat dazzled, the dentist demurred, "Not a problem, my dear."

After dinner, Harry excused himself from the company; left the drawing room the family and guests were relaxing in and hustled to the library.

Ripping open the parchment, he found a cover letter from his solicitors. In it, they said that although they could find nothing else objectionable in the terms of the contract, they strongly encouraged him to wait until he was seventeen or even older to commit himself. For a half second he considered the point before his Gryffindor impetuosity and boldness reared. _I love her and she loves me. Why let 'them' dictate my life to me. I've done that so far and it's only led to misery. No more._

Reading through the contract, he saw nothing of substance had changed from the previous iteration. In the morning, he'd give it to Henri for final review, and maybe one final request – for Gabi.

Smiling, he refolded the contract and tossed the cover letter in the heatless fire burning merrily in the fireplace. Whistling a jaunty tune, he went to rejoin his family – O_r soon they will be_.

.oOo.

Harry and Gabi waltzed through their lessons the next day. At breakfast he asked for a few moments of Henri's time and they conducted their business in the study after eating.

"I expect us to deal with this at lunch," Henri informed Harry with a tremulous smile.

Summoning all his courage, Harry offered, "Sir, if you and Madame wish to wait before signing, I'm sure that Gabrielle and I can wait for a bit."

Henri looked at Harry and with a sardonic expression asked, "How hard was that to say, Harry?"

Breaking his serious mien, Harry answered, "Quite difficult."

Clapping the young man on the shoulder, the French Foreign Minister said, "We shall not wait, Harry. When you and Gabrielle have children of your own, especially daughters, you shall understand." Nodding his head to the younger man, he finished, "Until lunch, then."

"Lunchtime it is."

.oOo.

Gabrielle didn't leave Harry's side all morning. Nervously, they made their way to the dining room after their Transfiguration lesson. They'd clued in Hermione after Charms and their bushy haired friend was like the nervous bridesmaid before the wedding.

They sat down to eat but both Harry and Gabrielle's stomachs were closed. He looked at his plate, over at Gabrielle and her plate before turning to the head of the table, "Sir, might we take care of the contract before meal?" With a hint of a smile, he added, "I don't think that Gabrielle or I will have much of an appetite until that is resolved."

The Delacours smiled and made to rise while the Grangers looked on, puzzled. Finally, Steven leaned to Hermione and asked, "What are they talking about?"

"Harry and Monsieur Delacour are entering into a marriage contract between Harry and Gabrielle."

"That's barbaric!" exclaimed Alice in a whispered shriek.

Harry coolly regarded the Grangers before standing and heading to the study with the three Delacours. He gave Hermione a quick nod before they left.

Hermione stared at her plate until her father asked, "What's wrong pumpkin?"

Still looking at her plate, Hermione responded in a pointed repetition. "What's wrong? I'll tell you what's wrong. Every day we've been here, you've embarrassed me to no end with your jingoistic, ignorant behavior. You gawk at Gabrielle like a prize heifer, you sound off about a magical tradition that is centuries old and on top of it, entered into willingly by all parties. There are things going on here of which you have no conception, so next time, I'd appreciate it if you said nothing!"

The irate witch stood from the table and as she stormed away, Alice called after her, "Hermione Jane! Don't you walk away young lady…"

.oOo.

Nervous, Harry sat across from Henri's desk in the study. Marie and Gabrielle sat on a divan along the wall. "Harry," the head of the Most Righteous and Royal House of Delacour began, "I discussed your request with my wife and we would request a compromise of sorts."

Gabrielle looked confused and to tell the truth, a bit frightened. "Papa? Harry?"

Harry looked at his almost-wife and grinned sheepishly. "I wanted it to be a surprise. I asked your father if he would consider guaranteeing White Rock to you or your descendants upon his death."

Gabrielle's eyes widened and then she smiled at him, her expression promising her thanks later that evening for his thoughtfulness.

"We would ask to reduce Gabrielle's dowry by one hundred thousand galleons and a commitment to allow Fleur and two generations of her descendants access to the house for holiday purposes, but not as a primary residence."

Harry nodded and glanced to Gabrielle to ensure her agreement. When she nodded, he responded to Henri, "Most definitely. That is quiet agreeable."

The room was quiet while Henri filled his fountain pen and added the proviso to the contract.

For Harry, time began to slow. He acted and reacted. Later, he was pretty sure that he breathed during the next five minutes but couldn't have sworn an oath that he did. Gabrielle told him that night that she was impressed with his calm collectedness during the entire negotiation. He would tell her he didn't remember all of it.

Henri rustled in his desk drawers and after an "Aha! Found you," he pulled up a wicked looking black quill. Seeing Harry's uncomprehending expression, Henri explained, "It's a blood quill. It's used in magically binding contracts. As you write, it will draw blood from the back of your hand to use as ink."

Harry ruffled his nose and Marie laughed. "It is rather disgusting, isn't it?"

With a deep breath, Henri bent over the page and signed his name with a flourish.

Harry was sure that his heart had stopped beating. Positive, in fact that blood had ceased to circulate in his body. Time came to an end as first Marie and then Gabrielle signed the contract as 'parties affected.'

Light began to escape from the room in fits and starts. Air absconded with its cousin as Harry bent over the parchment.

He gulped down the last vestiges of oxygen in the room, murmured, "Gryffindors Forward," and signed the contract in his spiky handwriting. He didn't even notice the sting on the back of his hand, but he did notice the distinctly red coloration of his signature before it dried.

_Holy Shit._

Before he could utter the imprecation and all the terror it encompassed, he was engulfed in the arms of his wife.

_My Wife._

_Holy shit._

This time, the imprecation was full of joy and wonder. Amazing that the same two words can convey two emotional positions that have a gulf between them so large.

He smiled, relaxed in the hug and held her close. She pulled back and he gently kissed her. A kiss of tenderness and affection, but with a hint of passion to come.

She bracketed his face with her hands and gazed into his eyes. He then realized that she was weeping. Alarmed, he moved to speak when she silenced him, "I love you so much."

"I love you too, my Gabi."

She smiled and pulled him close again.

When they broke apart they found Henri and Marie standing next to each other, Henri's arm around his wife while she dabbed at her eyes with a lace handkerchief.

Gabrielle went to her mother while Henri approached his son-in-law. "Harry," he said after firmly shaking the young man's hand, "Marie and I would be honored if you would consider calling us Mama and Papa. If that is uncomfortable for you, please use our Christian names."

Surprised, Harry turned to Marie who smiled and nodded.

With a hint of the Marauders, Harry hugged Marie and answered them with, "I'd be glad to…Mum."

.oOo.

The Grangers _pere_ and _mere_ spent the afternoon sunning on the beach. Hermione spent the afternoon poolside with Harry's advanced Transfiguration book. After eating a late lunch, the newly married young couple found the girl immersed in the topic.

"Hey Hermione," called Harry. When Hermione didn't look up, he and Gabrielle sat across from the girl and in a conversational tone asked, "Are you alright?"

When she didn't look up again, Gabrielle frowned, reached over and tapped the book Hermione was reading.

Startled, Hermione jumped and replaced the book in front of her face, mumbling a barely coherent apology. She wasn't fast enough to prevent the Potters noticing that her eyes were rimmed with red and her hair more tousled than normal.

Softly, Gabrielle asked, "Hermione, how can we help?"

Like a damn bursting, Hermione threw down the book and wailed at them. "I'm so humiliated! Gabrielle, your parents have been nothing but kind and convivial. Especially so given your wonderful news and yet my parents are acting like the stereotypical British buffoons abroad in the late Nineteenth Century. They've repeatedly insulted my two best friends and what makes it only somewhat bearable is that they didn't mean to!"

Stunned by the vehement outpouring, Harry and Gabrielle sat there, blinking. Finally, Gabrielle found her voice, "Don't feel bad. We still love you and your parents really aren't that bad. They had a few faux pas but nothing truly serious. No 'half-breed' remarks or sexual innuendo."

"Or boy-who-lived cracks combined with a 'where's the gold' question," continued Harry.

Amidst her tears, Hermione offered a slim smile which was Harry and Gabi's goal in the first place. After wiping her face, Hermione muttered, "I must be a sight."

Harry wasn't sure what exactly to say but took his cue from his brand new wife. When Gabi waved off the statement, Harry added, "Not at all."

Cocking an eyebrow, Hermione zeroed in on Harry, "You've always been a bad liar, Harry."

Shrugging, he muttered, "Really, I've seen you worse."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and shook her head, "You're not helping. Do us a favor and go ask Blinken for a snack."

With a smile, Harry gave her a kiss and dutifully answered, "Yes, dear."

.oOo.

After dinner, Harry and Gabrielle were walking down the path to the guest house, arms wrapped around each other. They were making slow progress but they didn't seem to mind. Marie had pulled her daughter aside and offered the use of the guest house so the newlyweds could have some privacy over the next few days.

"Shall we go to London tomorrow or the next day?" he asked.

Confused she asked in turn, "Why?"

With an innocent grin, he answered, "Ring shopping. We can check the family vault and if nothing in it agrees with you, we can then see what the best of London, Paris, Antwerp or anywhere else on the planet has to offer for you."

Her surprised expression turned to hunger. Pace quickening, Gabrielle said to her husband, "Hurry, we need to get to the bedroom as fast as possible."

.oOo.

An hour later, two naked, sated Potters lay entwined in grey silk sheets.

Harry was beyond feeling. Growing up in the verbally and physically abusive household that resided at 4 Privet Drive had truly damaged his psyche.

All his formative years, he yearned for the slightest sign of affection or even approval from his aunt and uncle. By the time he was 8 or 9 he would interpret a day free of abuse as affection, well, maybe not _affection_ per se. Tolerance maybe is a better word. He was under no illusion that they cared for him, even at that young age. But if they didn't hit him, or shout and curse at him, young Harry Potter considered it as a sign of tolerance at least. In reality, the lack of abuse was usually because of a more base reason. Vernon was hung over or tired. Petunia was preoccupied with a scrumptious bit of gossip. Dudley had a new game that held his attention for a full day.

Later in life, just before and even after his Hogwarts letter arrived, Harry still craved that affection. Despite the fact that he hated the threesome with every bone in his body, he wanted them to love him.

The pertinence of his history was the source of his feeling, or rather not feeling. He and his Gabi had just experienced the fullness of a physical expression of love between a man and a woman. As Gabrielle lay her head on his chest, he was flooded with feelings and thoughts. Affection. Desire. Attraction. Lust. Wonder. Delight. Giddiness. Joy. Contentment.

Underneath it all was an feeling that he couldn't name and it would occasionally blot out the rest like the noonday sun smothers the light of a small candle. When he reached out to touch this feeling, to embrace it, the feelings quickly threatened to overpower him. The feeling was like thirty foot waves crashing on the beach with a terrible, unstoppable beauty. An inferno of gorgeous fire. The magnificent majesty of a typhoon.

Fifty years later, he would admit to her that he was just beginning to love her, though he didn't realize it at the time.

Embracing the Potter family motto (Fortune Favors the Bold), Harry opened his heart to this feeling and felt the fullness of his love for his wife. His eyes filled with tears and he began to shake slightly.

Blinking away her half sleep, Baroness Gabrielle Potter raised her head from her husband's chest and began to inquire what was wrong. She had been drowsing while deep in her magic, savoring its reaction to their lovemaking.

Veela are very complex creatures that are underestimated due to the rampant prejudice that considers them no better than magical prostitutes. In reality, there is an incredible unity of emotion, magic and love in Veela that is unmatched in nature. The only other being that comes close to this unity is the Phoenix – though in a very different way.

In retrospect, she knew that he was her bond mate since first meeting her Harry. The signs were all there magically, emotionally and intellectually.

As she began to trust herself and her magic, she began to bind herself to Harry – to give into the insistent demands of her magic. She fell in love with him. Quickly, efficiently and completely.

Her magic responded to this, growing, expanding and allowing her to access the fullness of her powers. She was fully capable of not only creating the well known Veela fireball, but she could actually control fire. Not as well an Elemental, but she exercised far more control over fire than any Veela she or her father knew. Henri supposed that Harry's magical strength had an impact on her as well.

Her love for Harry grew and her heart had expanded when he put voice to his own love for her.

Now she was his wife, he, her husband. The lock clicked open, the bolt thrown back and she had given herself completely to him. They had made love with a passionate abandon that had overwhelmed her. Veela do not have painful experiences when making love for the first time therefore she was taken by surprise and almost rendered unconscious by the power of her orgasm.

Afterward, they lay there in the early evening, the cool breeze playing across their bodies. For a quick moment, she had been afraid of the intensity of the experience. His softly caressing hand ran down her back and gently cupped her bum. She smiled and banished the fear, replacing it with desire. In all her life, she had never contemplated wanting someone as bad as she wanted Harry. Mind, body and soul, she was his and he was hers.

Awaking from her light slumber, she had felt his jerky attempts at smothering his tears. Propping herself on her elbows, she gently kissed him and ran her fingers through his hair. "Love, what troubles you?"

He didn't respond with words, rather he embraced her and pulled her close. "I love you so much; I can't even begin to describe it. I wish that I had words..."

The soft smile that graced her face filled him with relief. She would not mock him. She would only love him with all the capacity of her glorious heart.

"I love you," he breathed.

"I love you, too, husband. Make love to me again and again and again," and she kissed him.

And he kissed her back.

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

_SIX BRITISH AURORS KILLED, DARK MARK CAST OVER 'KILLING FIELD'_

.oOo.

Unsurprisingly, they missed breakfast the next day. And lunch.

Around five o'clock, the newlyweds wandered into the main house whispering 'sweet nothings' to each other. Their light laughter and muted discussion caused just enough of a ripple in the atmosphere of the summer house to signal the other occupants that the newest married couple in France had rejoined them.

"Bonjour, mama!" exclaimed Gabrielle as the Potters entered the dining room.

With a wry smile, Marie first traded a look with her husband and then responded, "Bonjour milady Potter."

Impossibly, Gabrielle's smile widened and Harry's softened. "We've been to London," Gabrielle announced and held out her left hand.

She was wearing a Potter family heirloom ring; a two carat flawless round diamond surrounded by sapphires. The wedding band was a plain circlet of gold to match her husband's ring.

After much 'ooh-ing' and 'ahh-ing' by Marie, Hermione and Alice everyone sat for dinner. As the food appeared, Harry mentioned, "We saw Fleur at the bank."

Serving herself the tornadoes of beef, Marie asked, "Oh? How is she?" In an undertone, Marie added, "The girl never writes."

Harry smirked and glanced across the table to Gabrielle. The younger sister gave her tinkling amused laughter and answered, "She is well. Quite excited and put out at the same time. She vacillated between excited about her date with Bill Weasley," here she gave Hermione a knowing look, "And being put out that she hadn't been here for the signing of the contract."

The soft laughter rippled around the table. As a sign of everyone's appetite, conversation was put on hold for a good fifteen minutes. The elder Grangers had ambled across the estate for the bulk of the day, picnicking near a stream at the rear of the property.

Hermione was still miffed with her parents and chose to read at the beach. She was tanning nicely, but Hermione was still was envious of Gabrielle. Her friend's skin tanned to the perfect bronze matching her hair and making her even more gorgeous than Hermione could have imagined possible. Nevertheless, a day in the sun had whetted the bushy-haired witch's appetite.

Harry was nicely bronzed as well. He'd taken to running in the morning without his shirt on and combined with studying on the beach or poolside, he too was bronzed and toned.

The Potter Lord sat at the table, idly finishing his meal. His primary focus was the young woman across the table from him. Gabi seemed to shine as she told the story of bumping into his sister-in-law heading into Gringotts. _I could just sit and watch her all day._

The delightful smells of the meal seasoned the atmosphere as conversation picked up. Harry could tell that the elder Grangers were on their best behavior. As they described their wanderings of the day, they solicited not only Henri and Marie's experiences of the property, but also those of Gabrielle. Harry caught Hermione watching her parents with a sharp eye and gave her a little smile to let her know that he wasn't carrying a grudge. Internally he huffed a bit, _It's about time they act like the adults they purport to be._

He held his tongue and let the moment of pique pass. _Family is about forgiving_ Gabrielle had told him once. Since he meant what he said about Hermione being the sister of his heart, he decided to apply his wife's maxim and forgive Steven and Alice. They had just better not do it again.

Coffee was served after a delightful crème brulee. Since the weather was fine, the family and guests were all to go out on Henri's sailboat, _Lady Marie_ the next day. After a decent period of attention to their guests, Gabrielle caught Harry's eye and flickered her eyebrows.

Harry smothered a smile and stood, "Mum, the meal was excellent as usual. I'm afraid the day has worn me out, so Gabrielle and I will bid you all an early good night."

No one was even remotely fooled by the falsehood, yet everyone acknowledged the statement. As Harry and Gabi left the room, Harry heard Hermione mutter, "Sleep well my friends."

.oOo.

(International Magical Tribune Headline)

_BRITISH MINISTER FUDGE'S POPULARITY AT ALL TIME LOW_

.oOo.

"Prepare to tack!" Harry called.

When everyone had responded, Harry made the next ritual call, "Helm's a-lee!" and spun the helm to port. He ducked as the boom swung from port to starboard as the boat shifted tack.

The seas were pleasantly lively and the wind sharp so the impromptu crew of the _Lady Marie_ was thoroughly enjoying themselves. They were making a long reach to clear out of the small bay at the head of which White Rock was nestled. Henri planned for the group to sail to a small island off the coast for lunch. They would eat dinner on the way back in the ship's galley. While they loaded stores, Marie had muttered to Harry as she passed him a box full of bread, "Unless I get annoyed and use the Stability and Wind charms to get us home in an hour."

Harry had laughed until Henri beckoned the young man. "Harry, you will pilot us out to the island." At the first hint of panic from his son-in-law, Henri smiled and squeezed Harry's shoulder, "I will be next to you the entire time. Don't worry, it's actually quite fun." In an undertone he added, "It's the only time I get to boss Marie around."

"I heard that!"

Returning to the present, Harry nodded as Hermione, Alice and Gabrielle worked the clew lines and adjusted the trim of the sail. Hermione had read two books on sailing and had been in a dither about the type of boat the _Lady Marie_ was. "Is it a schooner? No, it can't be that big…can it? Oh no, with my luck it will be a lateen rigged snow that's run on a combination of magic and manpower."

Harry and Gabrielle had just laughed at their friends worries, reassuring her as best they could.

Watching the crew work, Harry was impressed. Gabrielle was a very good sailor and Hermione had picked up her role quite well. Grinning at Henri, he admitted, "It is pretty fun."

Doffing his shirt and tossing it into the cabin, Harry leaned back on the lifelines and pulled Gabrielle into his side. She was wearing a bikini top and shorts to go with her thick rubber soled canvas shoes. Henri smiled and moved off, mentioning something about securing something forward.

Now that the large boat was on a steady course, everyone relaxed and enjoyed the ride. Hermione eyed the mast as if she wanted to climb it to see the top of world. Alice and Steven sat on top of the cabin and stretched out, talking softly. Henri caught up with his love on the forecastle and surprised her by tickling her sides.

As Marie's laughter and playful shrieks wafted aft, Harry watched his wife through new prescription sunglasses and whispered, "Love you."

She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed. "I've never been happier." Gabrielle lifted her own sunglasses and kissed her husband softly. "We need one of these for ourselves," she declared as she indicated the sailboat. Glancing around to see if anyone could hear, she whispered, "I'd like to make love to you on deck, under the stars."

He smiled back and shook his head. "We'll go look at boats tomorrow," he jokingly replied.

Her laughter bubbled up and over. He watched the sail and smoothly steered the _Lady Marie_ to 'keep the luff'. He had jokingly reminded Henri that he was British after all, he was sure he could work this French contraption. That had earned Harry a mock glare to which he merely responded, "Let's see…Trafalgar, Cape St. Vincent, The Nile…" which caused Henri to playfully turn his back on the young man.

Harry had tapped Henri on the shoulder and mentioned, "You do realize that Gabrielle is now British."

"And you are now French," Henri responded with mirth.

When Harry's amused expression turned puzzled, Henri explained. "Because you are magical the citizenship legalities are different as a magical marriage is different than a non-magical marriage. As you know, there is no divorce in the magical world. It is impossible. Now, you both now hold dual citizenship in Great Britain and France. Your children will be either French or British, only you and Gabrielle will be both."

"Oh."

The day was wonderful and Hermione piloted the Lady Marie home. The wind and sea picked up at sunset and they had to change course quite a few times as the wind shifted points. Henri wanted to go as fast as possible in order to get home before it got too late, so he was coaxing all he could from the _Lady Marie_.

Harry was sitting on the deck, leaning on the front of the cabin. Gabrielle was nestled between his legs and the two were silently enjoying the early evening. The stars were full out and Harry was agog at the beauty of the night sky. With the sinking of the sun, the temperature cooled a bit, so Harry and Gabrielle had put on long sleeved T-shirts.

A shadowy shape plopped down next to them, which identified itself when Hermione informed them, "Your dad has the helm." After a considering pause, she asked, "Is it always this beautiful at night?"

The question was obviously for Gabrielle, who answered, "Unless it's going to storm, yes it usually is."

The three friends sat there in contented silence as the heavens revolved overhead in their ancient dance of dark and light.

.oOo.

The rest of the week went well. After a few more days, lessons restarted and the teens put their collective nose to the grindstone. Harry and Hermione had an unspoken agreement to savor each moment they had together and Hermione thanked Gabrielle on more than one occasion for sharing Harry to such an extent the week after they married.

Two days before Hermione and her parents were due to leave, an owl swept down to Harry as the threesome finished their morning run. Opening the note, he frowned. Holding up the parchment, he told the other two, "Sirius wants me to Floo call him. That's it."

"Maybe he has something he can only say in person," opined Hermione.

Rolling his eyes, Harry responded, "You don't say."

They wandered into the main house and Harry called out the address listed in the letter.

"Padfoot's doghouse!"

Sticking his head in the fire, Harry closed his eyes and waited for the sickening spinning sensation to pass. When it did, he opened his eyes to see Sirius sitting at a table in front of the fireplace. His godfather didn't notice Harry in the fire, so Harry glanced around to see who else might be present. No one else was in the dingy, cramped room so he called out, "Oi! Padfoot!"

Sirius lolled his head Harry's way and the young man could see that his godfather was in a bad way. Puffy, pale cheeks and bloodshot eyes were underneath lank, dirty hair. If Harry didn't know better, he'd swear that Sirius was back in Azkaban.

His face creasing into a frown, Harry asked, "Are you alright, Sirius?"

Pursing his lips, the Prisoner of Azkaban silently shook his head. He rubbed his face once, twice and then croaked, "No, I'm not. I'm about to fail you again."

Alarmed now, Harry demanded, "Sirius, what the fuck is going on?"

Without meeting Harry's eyes, Sirius answered in a dead voice, "Albus. He says that he 'may not be able to help me much longer' if you don't come back to Hogwarts."

Harry's stomach clenched. His guts twisted until he wanted to puke. Sweat broke out on his suddenly clammy face. Harry shut his eyes in a vain attempt to block it all out.

"I'm sorry, Harry." Sirius was openly weeping now. "I, I…" in a whisper he finished, "I can't go back. It won't kill me, but it'll be worse than death. It'll be the kiss."

Nerveless, Harry nodded his comprehension. Rage began to form deep in his belly where all the ugly parts of us live. Without warning, Harry screamed.

Sirius jumped and then sat there, staring at his godson in the fire. "I'm so sorry…" he sobbed.

Shaking his head, Harry began weeping himself. "It's not your fault, Padfoot. It's that long haired manipulative old bastard." Harry's green eyes burned with hatred when he spat, "I may have to kill him before this is all over."

Realization hit Harry like a cricket bat to the back of his head. Stunned, he muttered, "Gabrielle…"

Sirius covered his face again, "I know." After a long moment, he regained his composure and sat up straight. "I've read through the Hogwarts by-laws, the professional code of conduct for professors, the student rules and the magical laws concerning education. They can't deny Gabrielle admission, nor can they prohibit you two from cohabitating. Hell, if the Headmaster grants it, you can be day students and Floo in every day."

Harry snorted in disgust, "Somehow, I don't think that fucker will be so kindly disposed."

"True."

A long minute later, Harry shook his head and faced his waiting and sorrowful godfather. "Look, I've got to go. This is just a lot to take in but I want you to know that I don't blame you at all."

Sirius' head dropped and that vacant 'Azkaban-look' came over him. "I should just take the kiss and get it over with."

Enraged again, Harry shouted, "Goddam you! Don't you fucking do that!"

Shocked, Sirius could only nod.

"Promise me! Swear that you will keep yourself safe!"

With the hint of a smile, Sirius picked up his wand and made the oath.

Puffing a bit with emotion, Harry nodded and asked, "Can I contact you at this Floo address from here on out?"

When Sirius nodded Harry finished, "Ok, I've gotta go." His face softening, Harry added, "I love you Sirius, be safe," and pulled back before Sirius could say anything further.

.oOo.

Gabrielle was concerned. Watching Harry's body, she could tell that the discussion with his godfather was not going well. She shared a look or two with Hermione and the worry was etched on her bushy-haired friend's face.

When Harry pulled out of the fire and she saw the tears on his enraged face, Gabrielle's concern ratcheted up to alarm in a microsecond.

He turned his face to her and the first words out of his mouth sent her alarm to terrified fear.

"I'm so sorry."

"What is it?" she rasped out of her dry throat.

Harry laid it all out, as Sirius had told him. Surprisingly, Hermione reacted the strongest.

"Unbelievable! Blackmail!" The smartest witch of the age stormed up and down the sitting room while Harry took Gabrielle into his arms.

A few minutes later, Gabi stood and pulled her husband up. "Come, we must talk to Papa. I'm fairly certain that the old man is not aware of our marriage and has not taken into account two things."

Harry was still reeling so he only looked at her with a blank expression. Hermione, though, was smiling.

"First, your father in law is the Foreign Minister of France and you are also a citizen of this country."

"Secondly?"

"Secondly, he has now officially pissed off this Veela."

.oOo.

"Merde."

Henri was sitting behind his desk and vexed to boot. Usually, when a matter had him twisted this way and that, he would lean back in his chair and stare at the ceiling. The lack of anything visually to focus on helped his mind drift and break out of constraints that were keeping him from finding a solution.

He was currently leaning back in his chair and had been doing so for thirty minutes. No solution was forthcoming.

"Harry," he began without sitting up straight, "I will be frank with you. Your godfather is the victim of a grave miscarriage of justice. Any sane person who we present these facts to would agree. I could authorize granting him political asylum in France. However," he raised a finger in the air to emphasize his point, "There is absolutely no possibility that I could convince President Balfour and le Confederation to prevent him being extradited to Britain as an escaped convict. To do so would require us to break the existing extradition treaty that is in effect with Britain and that is not possible."

Harry's heart had been sinking the entire time Henri had been speaking. It was obvious the man wanted to help Harry. Wanted to help Sirius even though he'd never met the man. However, his hands were tied.

"The method to defeat a blackmailer is to do that which is being threatened. If one has been unfaithful and the blackmailer threatens disclosure, the person is best served by disclosing the infidelity thereby removing the illicit leverage. However, to apply that model in this situation would be fatal for Mr. Black." Henri now looked at Harry and with a sardonic expression finished, "Not the best of moves for the long term."

Marie was furious and had left the room after fifteen minutes. Her outrage hadn't allowed her to be still for any period.

Harry found it hard to meet Gabrielle's eye. Shame fell over him like a blanket. The undeserved guilt that he had failed her in some way was pounding through him. With no warning, her voice was in his ear, "It's not your fault, mon cher. I love you and will go with you to Scotland."

Closing his eyes in relief, Harry sagged in his chair.

A/N

1. I own nothing.

2. Recommendation for this chapter is one I've recommended before and throw out there again – An Inconvenient Truth by the Old Crow. An excellent story.

3. Thanks to all who have taken the time to review the first chapter and patiently awaited this second installment. As you can see, each chapter will encompass a year, so chapter 3 will be all of Harry & Gabrielle's fifth year. Expect it to be longer than chapter 1. I imagine it to be about 40-50k words. Don't expect it before the New Year, but as with this chapter, I hope the wait is worth it. See you next time - muggledad


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Fifth Year**

"Damn."

Harry had Gabrielle's hand entwined with his as he stood on the stoop of Platform 9 ¾. It was 10:50 and the platform was teeming with people as the Hogwarts Express loaded up for the school year '95-'96.

Hermione was on the opposite side of Gabrielle as the two young women chatted about school and some of the differences that Lady Potter should expect. Harry internally marvelled at his young wife. Since Albus Dumbledore's 'persuasion' of Harry to return to Hogwarts, as opposed to carrying out his planned enrolment in Beauxbatons, Gabrielle had been extraordinarily supportive of Harry. She had gone out of her way to reassure her husband that she was not put out of countenance at all by her forced transfer to the old castle in Scotland.

"Shit."

Hermione had left White Rock the last week in August, promising to meet the couple in Diagon Alley on the 29th of the month to go shopping for school supplies. Henri and Marie accompanied the young couple to London and the group of four had been mobbed the moment the entryway to Diagon Alley had opened.

Apparently, the headline of the Daily Prophet that morning had piqued a bit of interest.

_POTTER MARRIES DARK CREATURE_

After fighting their way through the crowd (with a few well-applied Stinging hexes) Harry saw the morning Prophet at a newsstand and froze.

Nervously, Gabrielle rubbed Harry's arm, trying to calm him. "Harry, what they say does not matter. Only you matter, now come, we must away."

Harry closed his eyes and breathed deeply. His rage had been very close to the surface since he had the news of Dumbledore's heavy-handed blackmail. Centring and calming himself as best he could, he worked through some meditation exercises. Marie had been very worried about Harry after his anger at Dumbledore didn't abate, merely grew. She had sat him down and taught him some meditation techniques that helped him gain control of himself when the rage wanted to tear him apart. Or better yet, tear an old man apart. After a moment of calming exercises, he nodded and the group moved down the alley.

They shopped for supplies and Harry really splurged. He purchased the best summer silk robes for himself and Gabrielle and Kashmir wool robes for winter. Potion supplies, two new pairs of dragonhide boots for each of them, new expanding trunks followed by two and a half hours in the bookstore. Gabrielle and Hermione were implacable.

To tell the truth, Harry spent almost as much time browsing as his wife and friend did. The intensive instruction over the summer had lit a fire in Harry's belly that was only quenched with more knowledge. He was sure that if he were to be sorted today, the hat would debate between Gryffindor and Ravenclaw, rather than Gryffindor and Slytherin.

Lunch with Fleur and Bill Weasley had been fun. Henri had taken his family out into London and fed them in style. Fleur and Bill were very friendly with each other and Harry wondered how serious the two were in their dating. The lunch had been one of the high points of the visit.

Returning to Gringotts, they had to wade through another crowd of fans ("Oh Harry, I love you!", "Tell me you didn't marry that thing!", "Gabrielle, dump that loser and run away with me!"). Harry wasn't sure, but the last person had more than a passing resemblance to Ron Weasley.

At Gringotts, Bill and Fleur made their adieus while Harry and Gabrielle headed to the accounts desk. After a quick meeting, they walked off with a list of the physical assets either stored by or managed by Gringotts. The manor house in Wales, the summer house in the Lake District and what appeared to be the surviving contents of the cottage in Godric's Hollow were among the details.

With Henri and Marie, the Potters used the Floo to go home for the first time. "Rowan Hill!" Harry called out. Five hours later, they returned to London, the four of them discussing ward improvements, the number of house elves needed and of course, Gabrielle was cornering Marie about entertaining in the Grand Dining Room.

"Crap."

Softly, Gabrielle faux complained, "Again, my love? Must I improve your vocabulary again?"

Laughing softly, Harry shook his head and led the way on the train. Finding an open compartment, they drew the shades, locked the door and removed their shrunken trunks. Harry set his trunk on the shelf while Gabrielle restored her and Hermione's trunk to normal size. Harry's trunk carried the bulk of their clothes while Gabrielle carried 'things'. Everyone picked their book for the ride and settled into the benches for a hopefully quiet transit north. Twice the door rattled, but no one penetrated the locking spell Gabrielle cast.

They were passing a familiar stretch of southern Scotland when Harry nudged Gabrielle and mentioned, "This is where the Dementors boarded before third year."

The blond nodded and looked out the window. "Such an innocuous stretch of land…"

Harry nodded in return but found it hard to return to his book. Instead, he asked, "Hermione, are you Ok with not being named a prefect?"

Hermione shrugged and screwed up her face for a moment. "In theory I realize that I didn't get it because I am close to the two of you," she indicated the snuggling couple across from her. "That is rather disgusting, actually and I sincerely hope that it's the Headmaster's doing and not Professor McGonagall's."

Harry nodded while Gabrielle asked, "You say that you understand this, but…"

"It still hurts." Hermione paused for a long minute then looked in her lap, "I deserved it," she finished in a low tone.

"You did," Harry asserted strongly. "And I'm sure that it's Dumbledore trying to punish and discourage you from consorting with us."

Hermione snorted in a most unladylike manner, "Then he's going about it in all the wrong way. I love school and I realize that I…respect…authority figures a bit too much," Harry laughed openly while Gabrielle smiled widely. "But I also realize that friends and love are far more important."

Harry raised his eyebrows in playful astonishment.

Hermione chuckled and said, "Screw you Potter."

"Sorry, not your job."

"Harry!" the two witches called out in embarrassed outrage.

His mood lightened, he returned to his book. Wrapping his arm around his wife, he settled back on the bench.

.oOo.

Harry sat next to Hermione at the Gryffindor table, resplendent in his robes. On the left breast was the Potter coat of arms and on the cuffs of the sleeves he had two gold stripes, indicating his status as head of an Ancient and Noble house.

Dumbledore was in his usual seat. _Throne more like it_, scowled Harry. The Potter Lord did everything he could to keep from looking at the Headmaster. He talked with people at his table, he stared at his plate and he watched his wife at the back of the hall. All the time his fury at the Headmaster simmered just below the surface. He felt that if he locked gaze with the old man, he'd lose control of himself and attack his blackmailer. Although a very enticing idea, he was under no illusions that he could defeat the old man. Yet.

Unfortunately, Harry did accidentally meet Severus Snape's gaze and it was something he regretted. When the two men's eyes locked, Harry was surprised to find that the feelings of loathing that boiled forth were equal in intensity to those the Headmaster inspired.

Apparently, he saw both men as equally repugnant. Not really surprising, though. One was a manipulative bastard who would walk over anyone to fulfil his notion of what was the right path and the other…well he was just a fucking prick. The Potion Master's eyes narrowed in malice and Harry experienced a brief moment of a …presence…in his mind before the foul man sneered and looked away.

Shaking his head, Harry tabled the experience. _I'll talk to Gabi and Hermione about it tomorrow._

Gabrielle had politely refused the boat ride across the lake with the first years, which confused Hagrid to no end. In the end, she smiled gently at the half giant and allowed Harry to hand her into the Thestral drawn carriage.

She did need to be sorted though, so she was at the head of the first years that were waiting at the back of the Great Hall.

"Gabrielle Delacour!" read McGonagall from her scroll.

Gabrielle did not move. With a pleasant expression, the Lady Potter just watched the Deputy Headmistress. McGonagall looked back at her with a quizzical expression. Finally, with a wave of her hand toward the sorting stool, Minerva asked/ordered, "Miss Delacour?"

Now Gabrielle scowled, showing her extreme displeasure. She held up her left hand to show her rings and in a firm, loud voice, answered the Deputy Headmistress, "You may address me as Mrs. Potter, or better yet, Lady Potter."

Understanding dawned on McGonagall's face and the Scot gave her new student a quick nod. "My apologies, my Lady, I was unaware," she muttered and then in a louder voice, "Lady Gabrielle Potter!"

Now Gabrielle gracefully swept to the stool and put on the hat. Harry was used to it but in this context, he was able to notice his wife's Veela heritage. Most of the male and even some of the female members of the student body were actively ogling her as she sat there.

The sorting hat mumbled and flexed first this way and then that. Harry began to get worried until the hat called out, "If you insist milady. GRYFFINDOR!"

Exhaling with relief, Harry's entire body relaxed. He had no idea how tense he'd been. With a beaming smile, Gabrielle elegantly stood, removed the hat, which she handed to the Transfiguration Professor with a friendly nod. Sweeping to the table of Lions, she was engulfed in a storm of applause. Applause she politely acknowledged with a gentle smile and a nod of her head. She sat next to her husband and scooted close to him for anyone dense enough not to have figured out his or her marital status during the sorting.

The sorting of the firsties finished with no notable events. Hermione nudged Harry and asked in a whisper, "Who's that?"

Harry followed her pointing finger and saw a hideously ugly woman made even uglier by her expression. She was staring at Harry with an eager, hungry look that was quite unsettling. Just as Harry was about to shrug and indicate he didn't know who the witch was, the woman in question rose and interrupted the Headmaster's speech.

"Hem-hem," she cleared her throat in an artificially sweet manner. Now Harry was very concerned. This witch was the only new staff member so she must be the Defence teacher and with Hogwarts' luck with Defence teachers – well, Harry was more than a little wary of the squat, toad like witch.

"Thank you Headmaster for your introduction. For those of you who do not know me," she paused and smiled a reptilian grin – all teeth, no dimples - for all four tables, "I am Professor Umbridge and for the last ten years I have been the Senior Undersecretary to our celebrated Minister, Cornelius Fudge."

Harry and Gabrielle had to suppress simultaneously derisive laughter, but were able to catch the rest of the speech.

"With the unfortunate return of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, I have been detailed here to ensure the children of our magical society have the knowledge and means to defend themselves from a non-ministry sanctioned attack."

In an undertone, Harry asked no one, "As opposed to a 'ministry sanctioned attack'?"

Hermione shook her head in bewilderment.

Umbridge zeroed on Harry and continued her odd speech. "In these dark times, it is required for our society to rally to our duly appointed government and its leader – Cornelius Fudge. He has served us faithfully and dutifully for over ten years and I'm positive that he can navigate his ship of state through these turbulent times."

With another reptilian smile and accompanying nod to all tables, the pink robed witch sat with a bit of a flounce.

Hermione looked like she'd been hit on the head with a board, Gabrielle had an expression as if she'd smelled something truly disgusting and Harry just looked confused.

The food appeared on the table and like a crashing wave; the sound of the students catching up with their housemates swelled.

Shaking his head, Harry poured milk for himself and Gabrielle while she served his plate for him. Nodding his thanks he asked, "Is it just me, or did you two feel like we were at a political rally?"

Gabrielle nodded around a fork full of roast beef. Hermione ladled gravy on her potatoes before saying, "It was like a recruiting speech."

"For whom, though?" Harry asked.

Gabrielle pursed her lips before she answered, "You, I think."

.oOo.

After the feast, Harry and Gabrielle waited for Professor McGonagall. Their head of house was talking with Professors Snape, Flitwick and Sprout about something.

"He's going to be a problem," Harry murmured to Gabrielle and nodded at the Potion Master.

She nodded her understanding and squeezed his hand. "We'll need to think of something."

Warmth spread through Harry, filling him slowly but thoroughly. Looking to his left, he saw Gabrielle watching him. She had a half smile and her expression was soft and tender.

Returning her smile, he kissed her softly before he noticed Professor McGonagall making her way to them.

"I apologise, my Lady," said the stern Scot. "The Headmaster did not inform me of your married status, so I've been scrambling for a bit. I've just informed the other heads of houses and encouraged them to review the appropriate rules and regulations for married students. It's been over thirty years since we've had a married couple in the student body."

The three of them turned to the exit of the Great Hall as McGonagall continued, "I've had your belongings moved from Gryffindor tower to the married quarters near my office. You shall have a personal house elf attend you during the school year. I want you to know that I trust you both to behave appropriately, but I'd like to remind you that your quarters are just for you and a few close friends on occasion. They are not for parties and the like."

The Potters nodded in understanding. In a friendly tone, Gabrielle offered, "Professor, please call me either Mrs. Potter or, in private, Gabrielle."

With a short nod, McGonagall acknowledged the familiarity before delving into subject selection with the two. After ensuring that she had the correct courses for Gabrielle, she mentioned, "Mr. Potter, there are special electives offered in sixth year that you would do well to begin to consider now. Given your hereditary seat in the Wizengamot, I'd urge you to consider the Government and Law course. There is also Estate Management, Accounting, and more. I'll have an elf bring you both the brochures tomorrow."

They reached a painting of Hera and Zeus when McGonagall stopped. "Naiad," she announced and the painting swung open. Leading the way into a snug apartment, McGonagall waited for the painting to close before drawing her wand and casting a privacy charm.

"Harry," she said in a worried tone, which surprised him more than the use of his first name. "Beware Dolores Umbridge. She's a vicious, vindictive woman who is here to recruit you to support Fudge. I don't _know_ this per se, but knowing the woman and the current political climate, I come to no other conclusion."

Harry nodded and was contemplating the news when Gabrielle asked, "What do you know about her, Professor?"

The threesome moved to the sitting area and to seats, the Potters on the couch and McGonagall to an overstuffed chair. In a moment of hilarity, Harry had to suppress a gout of laughter as he saw the Professor sit in the comfortable chair. She looked most uncomfortable.

The Transfiguration Mistress began to explain that shortly after her sorting into Slytherin House, Dolores Umbridge quickly showed the ambition for which the house was known.

"She was taken under the wing of the best, brightest and biggest students in her house by the end of the first term of her first year. By the end of her second year, she could claim acquaintance with the same type for the whole school."

She had apparently been a mediocre student and a passable witch. Not going to win any awards, yet neither would she be labelled as a 'near squib' either.

It was her fourth year that really alerted the staff that something was not quite right with the Slytherin. "Apparently, she had made a deal with one of her housemates and the housemate reneged on the deal." Minerva paused, recollecting her thoughts. "The next day, the other girl was taken to the Infirmary because she'd had her head shaved and the word 'LIAR' burnt into her forehead."

Stunned, Harry and Gabrielle stared at the Gryffindor head with wide eyes.

Nodding in agreement at the young couple's assessment of the nature of the attack, Minerva went on, "The girl who was attacked never would hazard any guesses as to the identity of her attacker. Neither would she cooperate with the investigating Aurors. There was nothing anyone could do. We had no proof that Dolores committed the crime, but I firmly believe that she did it."

"Holy shit."

With a cocked eyebrow, McGonagall dryly agreed, "Indeed."

After a moment of the Potters sitting in shock, Gabrielle recollected herself and stood, "Thank you for the rooms and for the advice Professor."

Taking her cue, the older woman stood, shook hands with her newest charge and then Harry. "The password for the Fat Lady is 'Steadfast' and if you two ever need me, I'm behind the statue of Athena down the Hall, the password is 'Culloden'."

Harry thanked her and then walked her to the door. After the painting closed behind the Professor, he leaned on it and blew out a long breath. Meeting her eyes, he widened his and shook his head, "Not a nice person."

"Indeed. Come to me lover."

Harry loved it when she called him that. It was only in private and only something she ever called him. He sat next to her on the couch and she moulded her nubile body to his.

"So what was with your extra long sorting?"

She shrugged cutely, "It wanted me in Ravenclaw and I disagreed."

He nodded and then opined, "It doesn't really matter, though. You could be in Slytherin and we'd still live here and eat together."

"Yes, but this way, we have most of our courses together." She sat up and looked at him balefully, "You did drop that worthless Divination class didn't you?"

He smiled and held up a hand, "Yes, dear. I'll be in a class of third years taking Ancient Runes."

She laughed softly and then stood, holding out her hands. "Come to bed, husband. I have need of you."

He smiled at her and answered the unspoken question, "As you wish."

.oOo.

The next morning at breakfast found Harry, Gabrielle and Hermione eating and comparing class schedules. They all had the core subjects together while Gabrielle and Hermione shared Arithmancy and Ancient Runes. Harry wouldn't admit it, but he was very glad his wife and oldest friend were together when he couldn't be there.

Harry had a very bad feeling about this upcoming year. He and Gabrielle had talked long about it and they couldn't decide if he was being paranoid or if he had a touch of seer acting up. His hunches in times of stress had always guided him through his trials and this bad feeling wasn't reassuring. "Let's hope you're just being paranoid," she offered as they settled the discussion.

Harry nodded as Ron Weasley walked by. Ron gave him a half-hearted wave in return and moved to the end of the table where Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan had set up. As he watched his former friend move away, two ginger haired maniacs sat across from him.

"Harrykins!" greeted the left hand twin.

"Oh, god," Harry muttered.

"Tsk, tsk, Harry. Mustn't blaspheme," the right hand twin reproved.

Gabrielle had heard of the twins last year and seen them in action once or twice, but never at close range. She was already halfway through a giggle and moving at warp speed to laughter.

Hermione ignored them and concentrated on her Runes book.

Giving in to the inevitability of a conversation with the ginger haired lunatics, Harry asked, "What's the what, fellas?"

"Funny you should ask," answered George with a suddenly sober expression.

Leaning across the table Fred picked up the thread, "Last night, the new Defence prof showed up in the tower looking for you. Said it was imperative that she talk to you at once."

The other three had leaned across the table as well. Harry's eyes narrowed, his bad feeling rising into his gorge. "We've married quarters," he indicated to Gabrielle with a subtle nod of his head.

"By McGonagall's suite?" Fred asked.

"The one with Aphrodite and Hephaestus or Zeus and Hera?" continued George.

Now Gabrielle was stunned. Hermione turned a page.

Harry softly laughed and answered, "Zeus and Hera."

"Right-o, we won't let it get out. It's just good to have friends who know where you are."

Surprised at the thoughtful logic, Harry threw out a little prank of his own, "I'm touched guys." Tapping his chest he sniffed, "Right here."

The twins grinned at him and George simpered, "Oh, Harry. Take me now!" and mock swooned.

"Wait, isn't that her line?" Fred asked as he jerked his thumb at Gabrielle.

A squawk of indignation was cut off as Harry asked, "You do know that her older sister is dating Bill?"

With a subtle trace of nervousness, Fred asked, "Really?"

Gabrielle smirked, "Yes. She is."

"Ah. Right. George!" Fred announced, "She and he are now off limits."

"Aye, aye, Cap'n!"

"You two are lunatics, get out of here."

As the twins rose, Harry shot his arm out, catching George. He said in a small voice, "Thanks for the heads up, lads. Later this week, come by the room and we'll all have dinner together and catch up."

"No worries mate," And they moved off.

Despite their pranking and reputation as court jesters, Fred and George were solid friends. They had been there for him before second year, hadn't they? _I'm sure the fact that they got to break about fifteen laws in the process didn't hurt either, _Harry thought as he laughed to himself.

Taking a sip of his tea, he idly looked around the Great Hall. As his eyes scanned the other tables he saw quite a few faces look away. Unfriendly faces at that. Some students were a bit bolder and returned his gaze.

_Awww Fuck!_

He threw down his napkin and made to stand when his wife surreptitiously placed her hand on his thigh, preventing him from leaving.

"There are approximately two dozen persons in the Hall who are regarding us with expressions ranging from distaste to hostility, yes?" she asked him in French.

He nodded and exhaled loudly.

"They are partly afraid of what they do not understand and also jealous that you have me." She turned to him and her love for him was almost palpable. "This will happen for the rest of our lives, I do not care for those cretins. They do not matter. Only you and I matter."

He let the truth of her words sink in to his being. The upset and urge to begin high powered casting of the Bludgeoning curse bled out of him like a water in a leaky glass. Using the calming techniques Marie had taught him – _Need to send her a thank you note, been using them more than I thought I'd ever need_ – he calmed even more. He glanced at his watch.

With a devilish smile he offered, "You know, we have an hour before our first class," and his hand slid across her thigh.

Her breath hitched and the fork she had been holding fell to the table. "Hermione, we shall see you in Transfiguration," and she stood.

.oOo.

Harry's hair was more tousled than ever when he and Gabrielle strode into Transfiguration #5 as the bell rang. They settled into the seats that Hermione had saved for them as Professor McGonagall welcomed everyone back from the summer hols.

"We shall begin this year with a new spell." There were some puzzled looks from many of the students. Usually, the first two weeks of term was a review of the previous year.

"As you all know your O.W.L.s are administered at the end of this year. You must prepare yourselves to be ready and that requires studiousness and dedication. I am going to treat you all like adults and let you review your previous years on your own. It is not my responsibility to revise for you."

Hermione beamed at this little monologue while Gabrielle merely nodded in approval. Harry felt a little lost and assumed that he had some serious revising to do. His improved dedication to learning that began last year with the preparation for the Triwizard and followed through the summer tuition had born fruit in his attitude. Now he had three years to make up for because of all the chess, Quidditch and general slacking off that had taken the place of learning the material.

"We shall begin with Vanishing. The invertebrate slugs that are on your desk is where we shall begin." With a wave of her wand, boxes of slugs flew to everyone's desk.

Harry traded a mischievous look with Gabrielle. She murmured "Five."

With a mock scoff, he responded, "Seven."

She turned up her nose in mock disdain, "Very well, monsieur Lonely Man."

"On three?"

"One, two, three."

Harry waved his wand in a miniscule pattern as he concentrated on the slugs on their desk.

Without fanfare, or verbalizing the incantation, he Vanished eight of his slugs. Gabrielle smirked and while looking into his eyes, Vanished all twelve slugs in her box.

Harry sighed. "Am I on the couch?"

She sidled up to him, the noise of the other students masking their little conversation, "Only if you want to have me on the couch."

Harry gulped, and drew a deep breath, "If you want me to have you now, keep it up."

She gave her tinkling laugh and delicately sat back in her chair.

"Mr. and Mrs. Potter, stay after class."

Harry shrugged to Gabrielle's inquisitive glance so they silently read the text. Skipping the parts they already knew, they finished reading the last chapter as the bell for dismissal rang.

As Hermione packed up, she offered, "I'll wait outside."

Harry waved her off and said, "Don't bother, we may be a while," and shot her a significant look. Hermione nodded and headed back to Gryffindor tower. Harry and Gabrielle turned to McGonagall when the door shut. "Come with me."

They followed Minerva into her office where she motioned them to seats. Without preamble, she asked, "Is it safe to assume that you two had extensive tutoring this summer?"

Before they answered, Harry drew his wand and silently cast a spell at each of the portraits in the office, freezing them in place.

Heading off McGonagall's impending rant, Harry simply said, "The portraits have ears."

The Gryffindor head of house narrowed her eyes and then nodded shortly. "I repeat my question, did you two have extensive tutoring over the holiday?"

"Yes, ma'am."

Rummaging through a drawer, she withdrew a long scroll of parchment. Handing it to Gabrielle, she asked them, "That is the syllabus for your Fifth year. I'd like you to tell me which topics you have already learned."

Gabrielle opened the scroll on her lap while Harry stood and looked over her shoulder. McGonagall watched as they worked their way down the list, conferring with each other every so often in low tones. At one point, Harry began chuckling and Gabrielle twisted around and poked him in the ribs. They quickly finished their review and McGonagall was fairly certain she knew the answer as Gabi rolled up the parchment and Harry returned to his seat.

"Professor, we have mastered everything on the syllabus."

A short nod and another rummaging had the couple reviewing for Sixth year. Five minutes later Harry indicated, "Ma'am, we've got everything done here, as well." When McGonagall only blinked in response, Harry shrugged with a touch of embarrassment, "Monsieur Travail and Madame LeCroix drove us pretty hard this summer. Every day we were at it for three hours on each topic."

"And Beaucourt was even worse," Gabrielle muttered.

Somewhat stunned, she handed over the syllabus for Seventh year and was grateful that they hadn't learned the last month of Seventh year.

"Well, it's a waste of your time and mine for you to attend Fifth year classes. You'll take the end of year tests next Monday for Fifth year and the tests for Sixth year the Monday after that." Tapping her nails on her desk, her eyes narrowed in thought. "We can finish up the Seventh year topics shortly. Let me consider where we go from here in your Transfiguration studies."

In a very serious tone, Gabrielle asked, "Professor, I'd ask you not to repeat to anyone how advanced my husband and I are in our studies."

When McGonagall frowned in response, Harry clarified, "Professor, don't you think that Lord Voldemort would like to know these things?"

With a nod of her head, McGonagall acknowledged the point.

"Especially, the Headmaster."

Now the head of Gryffindor regarded her charges with a jaundiced eye. "And why would that be the case? I know he was rather foolish last term, but…"

Harry's face hardened and he interrupted his teacher, "Are you sure you want to know, ma'am?"

Taken aback, she paused and then nodded, "Yes, I do."

"Dumbledore blackmailed us to return to Hogwarts this year. Without directly using the words, he threatened to expose Sirius if I didn't return."

"No…" McGonagall breathed. Her eyes closed and her hand went to her forehead. "Oh, Albus, you stupid man."

Without opening her eyes, Minerva asked, "Why didn't Sirius flee?"

Harry scoffed which caused the older Scot to open her eyes with a flash of indignation. "Think about it, ma'am. Sirius was able to stay on the run for so long because of three things. First was his Animagus form, which Dumbledore can now describe intimately. Second was Buckbeak. Again, Dumbledore is well aware of the Hippogriff. Third was Sirius' access to his student vault. It was a stroke of luck that he had changed the name on the vault from 'Sirius Black' to 'Padfoot' after he ran away from home. The ministry never locked it down like all the other Black family vaults. On top of that, I can almost guarantee that Dumbledore has cast the appropriate spells to identify Sirius' magical signature which we all know can't be suppressed."

Harry was puffing like a locomotive in his anger and frustration. He, Gabrielle and Henri had been through the situation many, many times only to arrive at the same situation; they were stuck.

Gabrielle rubbed her husband's back and with a cold expression picked up the thread. "As I am sure you are well aware, Dumbledore is the head of the International Confederation of Wizards. He is also the head of the Wizengamot. As such, he can direct and inform both the British government and the governments _of the entire world_ on how to capture Sirius if he were to run. We," she indicated her husband and herself, "Are also known acquaintances and accomplices of the infamous Sirius Black." She finished her sentence with an unusual amount of sarcasm. "If we were to attempt to provide him funds, those funds would be tracked and Sirius taken when he attempted to access the funds."

Now Gabrielle was gesturing with her free hand, emphasizing each point if educating a toddler. Minerva McGonagall was nearly unparalleled in the realm of Transfiguration and well regarded in Charms as well. However, she was a babe in the woods of International politics. "If we were to withdraw a large sum of money, I have no doubt that we would be followed and Sirius taken when we attempted to hand over the gold."

"No matter where he goes, they'll find him eventually and then they'll suck out his soul. There is nothing we can do; it's check and mate." Harry's fury was palpable.

"What about going public?"

Gabrielle's eyebrow lifted in surprise, "And that would solve what, Professor? We would merely be advertising our aiding and abetting a known wanted man."

"But you could get the truth out!"

"He never got a trial in the first place, ma'am," muttered a defeated Harry. "I could show a pensieve memory of that night in the Shrieking Shack to all the lead reporters from the British and International press and the order for a Kiss on sight would still stand. I told Fudge that Sirius was innocent that night and he mumbled about me being 'Confunded' or some such nonsense."

Shaking his head in an odd mix of anger and resignation, Harry concluded, "The only solution is to find Pettigrew and bring his existence to light. Preferably with a public Veritaserum testimony."

In a desperate, defeated voice, Minerva asked the last question, "What about absconding to a safe house and magical hiding charms? The Fidelius, for example."

"And trade one prison for another? And lose any and all advantage we have? I have no doubt that the Headmaster would release the pertinent information on my godfather, which would increase the enthusiasm and pressure to find him. On top of it, we," he gestured to Gabrielle, "Would become 'persons of interest' and be locked into our own gilded cage. Even in France." Harry was snarling at the end of his diatribe and his cheeks were pink with emotion while Gabrielle's very tan face paled in her anger.

Gabrielle Potter had very carefully locked away her own emotions on the subject. Veela are very passionate beings and Gabrielle was a good Veela. She loved her man desperately and she hated Albus Dumbledore with a fiery hot fervency. Harry needed her to support him, not rant and rave like her nature called her to do, so she did something very difficult for her. She locked away her emotions. Like her husband, she had to avoid the Headmaster's eye at the feast for fear of losing control of herself. The Veela fire was itching in her palms.

At the opposite end of the emotional spectrum, Minerva McGonagall wanted to vomit. She knew that Albus Dumbledore wasn't nearly as lily white as his supporters painted him. But this? This was blackmail, plain and simple. Airtight to boot. Up was becoming down and left was spinning to right as she began to question all that she had believed about the Headmaster and the goals he espoused.

"Professor, are you well? You appear a bit pale. Is there something we can do for you?" Gabrielle asked with sincere caring.

"No, my dear. I am not all right. Your news is shocking, distressing and repulsive. I have a very strong urge to commit the murder of a man I have respected and mostly liked for many years now and it is quite nauseating. So no, I am not alright."

Shaking her head, Minerva stood and slowly walked to the window. Harry had always seen his head of house as indominatable as a force of nature. Right then, as she shuffled to the window, she looked like an old woman. Much older than her fifty-odd years. Looking out at the rolling grounds of the school for a long moment, she finally asked, "What can I do to help you?"

Gabrielle smiled grimly, while Harry answered, "Don't tell Dumbledore anything about this. We would appreciate if you would continue the accelerated training we began over the summer."

"I assume your progress with Charms is similar to that of Transfiguration?"

Harry smirked at his wife who merely elbowed him in return. "My gloating husband is slightly ahead of me in Charms." She turned to him and finished, "Like I am ahead of him in Transfiguration."

Minerva smiled at the two. With all that was falling on their heads, they still had each other and that was a good thing.

"Let's get Filius over here to run through his syllabi and we can come up with a plan." Striding to the fire, she threw in a pinch of Floo powder and shouted out, "Charms office!"

.oOo.

Flitwick had been so incensed at the Potters' news that he had jumped from his chair shouting in his squeaky voice that he was going to challenge the Headmaster to an honour duel.

"This cannot stand!"

His indignant shout was a bit comical coming from a man that stood about three foot six.

Eventually, they all calmed and worked out a study plan. The Potters would continue to attend their normal Fifth year courses but would not participate. They would sit in the back and study the Seventh year texts provided by the Professors.

"That way if you have any questions, you can ask during the class. After class, we shall take a short period of time to discuss the spells studied that day. I do not foresee this taking until Halloween or so. In the meantime, Minerva and I shall discuss the best course of action for you two. We can meet on the topic when we get closer to the time."

Harry and Gabrielle were very grateful, as much for their professors' attitude toward the headmaster as for the extra tuition.

Making their way to the Great Hall for lunch, Harry had wrapped his free arm around Gabrielle. In turn, she pressed herself to him as much as she could while still walking. Their emotions began to cool and their bodies relaxed after the high-strung meeting they'd just left.

Outside the Great Hall, an obnoxious voice called, "Scarhead, I can't believe you're so…"

The assembled crowd never did find out what Draco Malfoy's opinion was that day. Without pause, Harry spun and cast a low-powered Bludgeoning hex that hit the blond ponce square on the breastbone.

The Malfoy heir fell on his posterior, gasping for air. Deliberately, Harry walked up to the boy, replaced his wand in his wrist sheath and stood over his one time harasser. In a blinding moment of clarity for all who watched – which was about half the school – it was clear that Potter had outgrown Malfoy. The blond boy was an insect to Potter and would be swatted if he annoyed. Like now.

Harry bent over the prone boy and seemed to inspect him. Tilting his head, first this way and then that, Harry's scrutinizing of Malfoy made the ferret quite nervous and eventually he wheezed, "Leave off Potter!"

Harry was deliberately silent for a further ten seconds. It seemed like an eternity to all who watched. Finally, he spoke, "Mr. Malfoy, you are hereby warned; do not speak to me or my wife. Ever again. Under no circumstances are you to approach my wife or me. If you do, I shall challenge you to a duel based on your historically antagonistic and aggressive behaviour. In that duel, I shall probably kill you."

Pausing for effect, Harry could hear birds chirping out by the lake.

"Do you understand, Mr. Malfoy?"

Without meeting Harry's eye, the furiously flushing Malfoy gave a short nod.

With a jovial expression, Harry stood up and clapped his hands once, "Good! Goodbye Mr. Malfoy, have a good life." Harry turned on his heel, went to Gabrielle and extended his elbow. She took his arm and he escorted her into the hall for lunch.

As they sat, she caressed his leg and whispered, "I love you husband."

"And I you, wife."

.oOo.

The Potters were just finishing their dinner that evening when Harry groaned, "Uh-oh."

Quizzical, Gabrielle asked, "What?"

Harry nodded to the head table, indicating a conversation between the Potion Master and the Headmaster.

"Snape's probably ratting to Dumbledore about my little altercation with the blond inbred moron. Then, the _honourable_ APWB Dumbledore will most likely summon me to a conference in his office."

He looked at his plate and closed his eyes tightly. "I don't want to go, love. I'm afraid that I'll lose control and kill one or both of them. Despite my anger and posturing, I really don't want to do that." He considered and added, "At least not yet."

In an unconscious attempt to comfort him, she rubbed his arm while she thought. Finally she shrugged and then offered, "Don't go."

He stared at her and then began to laugh. After kissing her soundly, he muttered, "You're the best."

Sure enough, two minutes later, Dumbledore heaved himself from his grandiose chair and headed toward the Potters who had returned their attention to their meal. Reaching them, the Headmaster cleared his throat to gain their attention.

Harry was not going to play any more games with the Headmaster. The old man had Harry over a barrel regarding Sirius, but that was it. As soon as they discovered a way out of the blackmail, he had vowed that he would take Gabrielle far away from Britain and Dumbledore as soon as he could. Tahiti sounded wonderful.

Harry and Gabrielle ignored the clearing of his throat so with an annoyed expression, Dumbledore said, "Harry, I need to…"

Harry cut off the old man with a cold tone, "You will address me as Lord Potter or not at all."

Dumbledore paused, not used to being reprimanded by one of his students. In the Great Hall, no less.

Eyes narrowed in peevishness, Dumbledore restated himself, "Very well, _my Lord_, you will proceed to my office when you are finished with your meal."

Harry did not acknowledge the statement in any way, merely resumed eating his dinner. Gabrielle glared at the man with such an intensity to cause him to prepare to be attacked. Finally, the beautiful young woman resumed her meal as well and the slightly shaken Headmaster left the hall.

.oOo.

Harry and Gabrielle spent a quiet evening in their rooms. Surprisingly, the expected follow-up summons to the Headmaster's office did not appear. They knew they had Potions the next day so they had talked through a plan to survive the period without committing murder, assault or battery. Too bad it didn't work, it was a really good plan.

After their early morning run, they ate breakfast in their rooms. Their house elf, Tobby, brought them a smaller version of the standard Hogwarts fare and they ate quietly.

Harry was still stunned at how easily Gabrielle had installed herself in his life. Without effort, she had become everything to him and he welcomed it. They interacted artlessly and without reserve. He thought he knew what having a friend had been by his experiences with Ron and Hermione. He had been so very far from the truth.

He sat back in his chair, chewing the last of his bacon and watched his wife. She was stunning, that was immediately apparent. Looking beyond that he saw that she was eating with a wolfish delight, her appetite whetted by their long run and aerobic exercise thereafter. She was reading the Charms book that Flitwick had loaned them, occasionally using her hand to trace wand movements in the air.

Bubbling over was his love for her and his nature demanded laughter. Their life was very difficult right now. Voldemort was on the prowl again and was most certainly plotting to kill Harry. The Headmaster was deep in machinations to try to control Harry, for what purpose neither Potter could guess. Sirius was in danger from all sides. Fleur, who dismissed all dangers, was the known half-breed sister-in-law of the Boy-Who-Lived and therefore an automatic target. They had smaller trials like Snape and Malfoy and yet he had her.

His joyous laughter caused her to look up from the text with a wide smile on her face. Her expression broadcast that she was fully aware of his feeling and her matching laughter celebrated in their love.

They held hands on the way to the dungeons, meeting Hermione on the main staircase. Their friend just smiled at them in greeting. She and Gabrielle began chatting about their Arithmancy class. Harry had just enough of the athlete in him to smile and roll his eyes when they both exclaimed how excited they were to have their first class this afternoon.

He was wondering who the new Quidditch Captain was this year – either Angelina Johnson or one of the twins – when they entered Snape's Potion classroom.

Unlike every other course, all seven years of Potions were taught in the same classroom. The reasoning made sense, as the potion stores were too valuable to have multiple instantiations throughout the castle. However, it made the classroom a bit less tidy.

Harry was cleaning his and Gabrielle's section of the three person table when he heard Hermione mutter, "Must have been First years in here before."

They settled and opened their books to chapter one. The ladies had parchment and quill ready for note taking while Harry was drawing his from his bag when the door banged open and just as suddenly banged shut.

Snivellus Snape was in the house.

"Potter! Ten points from Gryffindor for being unready to start the lesson."

Harry heard Gabrielle's quick intake of breath and placed a steadying hand on her leg.

She calmed and let this most recent example of Snape's unfairness pass by.

The lecture began with its usual snide comments and not so veiled insults. As usual, Harry and Neville Longbottom were catching hell, while Hermione had the odd 'Know-It-All' thrown at her. Strangely, Gabrielle was not attacked.

Harry was musing on this oddity in Snape's behaviour when radical events precipitated a typical Harry Potter hero moment.

First, Gabrielle gave a sharp intake of breath and her whole body quickened. Harry was incredibly in tune with his bond mate's body and her body language. He wasn't sure, but Gabrielle and her parents believed it to be a manifestation of their Veela mating status. After they'd made love on their wedding night, his awareness of her had increased dramatically.

What was happening in the Potions classroom was not of the good. In fact, Harry could tell she was very displeased.

The next event was Gabrielle standing so fast that the back of her legs pushed her stool into and even under the table behind them. Glaring at Snape with undisguised hatred, she shouted, "Cochon!"

Ok, it was very bad. She had just called the Potion Master a swine.

Finally, her right hand cocked over her head and Harry knew what was coming. Hating himself as he moved, he dove at his wife, tackling her to the ground as the fireball formed in her hand.

The class was in an uproar. Hermione had a confused expression on her face but still saved both the Potters' lives by steadying their cauldrons. The #2 standard size containers were threatening to spill their volatile contents on the prone students.

In the corner of his vision, Harry saw a small vial arcing through the air toward him and his wife. Reacting without thought, Harry thrust out his hand and wandlessly cast a unique charm at the incoming object. The Return charm caused the vial to return to its thrower at a high rate of speed.

From underneath him, Gabrielle was letting loose with a stream of vitriol in French. Harry had never heard most of the words and made a mental note to check with her later on some of the meanings.

From his left, someone screamed. Apparently, the vial found its sender.

His humorous musings burned away as he saw the enraged face of the Potion Master. In terrifying recognition, he saw the man draw his wand and level it at Gabrielle. Harry rolled off his mate, drawing his own wand as he did so.

He felt rather than heard Hermione attempt to draw her own wand out of her robes. Gabrielle cycled up another fireball but Harry got to the man first.

Silence accompanied the curse as the pale blue light streaked across the classroom. It seemed to take an eternity for the eldritch fire to transit twenty feet but it arrived at its aimed point in the end. The silent Bludgeoning curse hit the odious man directly in the face.

Before anything else crossed his mind, a moment of hysterical hilarity burst upon him. _I've now become the hero of the majority of Hogwarts. The twins will want to bear my children._

Snape's head snapped back as his nose fountained blood. His arms wind milled once, twice and then he fell on his back, completely insensible.

The silence of the moment stretched on for three more heartbeats. Then, like an oncoming wave, pandemonium broke out in the classroom and the roar of noise threatened to overcome Harry.

The person to the left, now identified as Theodore Nott, was whimpering in pain. The vial had been half full of a corrosive acid that had impacted him full on the chest. When the glass broke, it showered him in the brownish liquid. Fortunately, for all, he was the only person sitting at his table.

Tracy Davis and Blaise Zabini moved to check on the fallen professor. In his hyper aware state, Harry noticed that neither of them moved too quickly to carry out the task. Malfoy was mincing and mouthing threats at Harry that were ignored.

Harry bent over and asked his wife, "Are you Ok? What happened?"

Snarling, Gabi stood and spat, "Bastard tried to use Legilimency on me!"

Harry's concerned expression fell to the ground to be replaced by a blank mask of fury. He heard Hermione whisper, "He didn't!" in indignation.

Slowly, he turned to see a revived Snape in a sitting position and shaking his head to clear the cobwebs.

His wand still in his hand, Harry slowly strode to the sitting man. Harry stopped five feet from him, at the same time; Snape realized who stood before him.

Snape snarled and started to rise when Harry cast a quick Sticking charm on the man, pinning him to the floor. With the black robed, surly Potion Master so distracted, he easily summoned the man's wand.

"Severus Snape, you have attempted to violate my wife in a most egregious manner." With vigour, Harry slapped the man across the face. Droplets of blood sprinkled from Snivellus' newly injured nose, stippling the nearby shirt of Zabini's.

In a voice as cold as ice, the Potter Lord declared, "I will have satisfaction." Turning on his heel, he nodded his thanks to Hermione who handed him his bag. Within two minutes, he and Gabrielle were standing in front of Transfiguration #7.

Taking a moment to settle themselves, Gabrielle gave Harry a long hug which helped each of them more than a Calming draught or Cheering charm ever could.

Not needing words, she nodded to him and he knocked on the door before opening it.

"Yes, Mr. Potter?" the Gryffindor head of house asked.

A bit nervous with all the Seventh years who qualified for Transfiguration watching him, he nonetheless boldly asserted, "Ma'am, there has been a bit of an emergency and my wife and I need to speak with you immediately."

Polite curiosity gave way to grave concern and McGonagall asked, "What is this concern, Mr. Potter?"

"I just attacked Professor Snape and knocked him unconscious."

Again, silence surrounded Harry. Finally, George reverently whispered, "Harry, I love you."

The students all cackled in nervous enjoyment while McGonagall waved the Potters to her office. As she moved to the door, Minerva called over her shoulder, "Class dismissed, complete your preparation and be prepared to execute a full human to animal transfiguration next class."

The moment the door closed, the professor wheeled on her charges and barked, "What the hell happened!?"

.oOo.

Five minutes after leaving the Potion dungeons, Harry and Gabrielle strode behind the incensed Minerva McGonagall as they made their way to the Headmaster's office.

As they walked, Harry could tell that Gabrielle was composing a letter to her father. She would mumble to herself, starting and restarting her sentences. Snape was in a world of shit if that letter ever was written and sent.

Heading up the stairs to Albus Dumbledore's sanctum, Harry ran through the calming exercises once again. He had to keep his cool and a level head or things could become exponentially worse for them all.

Gabi brushed her hand across his back. He half turned and she muttered, "I love you."

"Love you too."

Entering the office was always an experience, regardless of the loathsome creature that inhabited it. Disregarding the visual wonderland, Harry and Gabrielle walked up to the Headmaster's desk. They were unsurprised that he was not alone. Who was already present, was surprising, though.

Dolores Umbridge sat to the side of Dumbledore's desk, not a visitor, but not in authority. By her body language, she appeared to be attempting to play the part of an impartial observer.

"Ah, Minerva, I see you've brought Mr. and Mrs. Potter, good."

Turning to Harry, Dumbledore asked, "My Lord, please explain your behaviour. Attacking and harming a Professor is grounds for expulsion."

Confused, Harry looked at the man incredulously. Turning to his right, he saw a similar expression on his bride's face. On his left, his head of house appeared to be suppressing a full blown rant.

Shaking off the absurdity of the old man's statement, Harry then explained, "We were in Potions and Professor Snape had finished lecturing on Benselor's Burn Healing Balm." Dumbledore nodded in understanding, motioning Harry on in his story.

"We had all started to make the Balm and I had finished the preparatory steps setting the potion to simmer." Another nod. "I will say that during the class up to this point, Professor Snape had been his usual caustic self, flinging insults left and right, but had refrained from saying anything derogatory to my wife."

Umbridge and McGonagall's eyes widened at the statement and Dumbledore sighed. "My Lord, I'm sure you misunderstood Professor…"

Waving an interruption, Harry asserted, "You may view my memory in a pensieve later and decide. Continuing on. At that point, Professor Snape attempted to use Legilimency on my wife."

Umbridge's eyes widened again while McGonagall's narrowed. Showing his surprise, Dumbledore stilled and made no placating remark.

"As you probably know, Headmaster, my wife is Veela and as such is immune to Legilimency. However, she is very aware when someone probes her."

"It is most unpleasant," remarked Gabrielle in a dry tone.

Harry's face hardened for a moment and continued, "At that point, my wife said something that I forget now, and then formed a Veela fireball in her hand to warn off the Professor from continuing his attack."

"I did not realize what was occurring, but wanted to defuse the situation so I tackled my wife to the ground, hoping to prevent violence."

In reality, he didn't want her to be arrested for assaulting a wizard. Her status as the wife of not only a head of house but the wife of a Wizengamot member would protect her from any real criminal proceedings. Unfortunately, Harry was fully aware that the bigoted laws of Britain would make their lives difficult had her fireball reached Snape.

"On an unrelated note, a vial containing I know not what was tossed at us while we were on the floor. I used the Return charm to send it back to its thrower. It hit Theodore Nott. But I digress…"

Collecting his thoughts, Harry continued, "As we were lying on the ground, I was then shocked to see that Professor Snape had not only drawn his wand, but had levelled it at my wife. I had no option but to defend her. I cast the Bludgeoning curse which impacted Professor Snape on the nose, rendering him unconscious."

Dumbledore's eyebrows rose, "You attacked when you could have shielded to the same effect?"

Harry exhaled, trying to exude guilt where there was none. "I did not know which spell the Professor was going to cast. I will not gamble my wife's well-being, sir."

Overall, it was quite a good bit of politicking. Snape was in the Infirmary, having his broken nose and cheekbones attended to by Pomfrey so his vitriolic diatribe was not in effect to distract everyone.

Harry had gone out of his way to be respectful of the two men in the castle that he hated with a passion. It was something that Henri had drilled into him the last weeks of the hols. "Politics is working the best you can with people you loathe."

McGonagall was in a red-hot fury by the time Harry'd finished. "Albus, the man was going to attack a student!"

Dumbledore nodded in solemnity, his beard bobbing like a hedgehog popping out of his hole. "Yes, it is most disturbing." Regarding Harry for a short moment, he asked, "My Lord, would you be willing to submit to Veritaserum questioning?"

Without pause, Harry answered, "If administered by duly appointed law enforcement agents in the course of an investigation, I would most definitely submit to Veritaserum questioning." He and Gabrielle had discussed this on the way to McGonagall's office.

"Chief Warlock," Gabrielle began causing Dumbledore to wince – actually _wince_ - because the old man knew what was coming.

"I shall be contacting my father regarding this incident. As you are probably aware, my husband and I are both French citizens, as well as, British subjects. I can guarantee that the government of France will be less than pleased with this _incident_."

Her repetitious use of the term 'incident' was not accidental; there was a striking resemblance to the phrase 'international incident' that caused most politicians to pale and strongly consider incontinence when it was bandied about. Not that this parochial occurrence was at the 'international incident' level, but it _was_ deeply offensive. It was never good to offend Lord and Lady Potter on top of the Right Honourable Henri Delacour, Minister of Foreign Affairs for the Fourth Magical Republic.

Harry was about to open his mouth for the killing blow. The only route at this point was dismissal for Snape and possible criminal charges. McGonagall was a half step from an aneurysm while the unknown quantity of Umbridge seemed to be at least neutral to their cause.

It was not to be.

The door to the Headmaster's office burst open admitting the enraged Potion Master. In a blink, Harry had drawn and levelled his wand at the man, while Gabrielle held a fireball in each hand.

The tension was palpable and the atmosphere electric. Minerva wondered if she tossed a slip of parchment between the threesome if it would ignite. It probably would, she admitted to herself.

"STAND DOWN!"

The ringing voice of authority radiated from Albus Dumbledore demanding instant obedience.

Gabrielle extinguished her fireballs, but instead drew her wand. Pointing the wand at the ceiling vice the hook nosed slimy man at the doorway was her only concession to the Headmaster.

Harry, too, pointed his wand at the ceiling, however, the tip of the holly wand still glowed a bright pink.

With disgust, Snape lowered his wand to his side. After the odious man pocketed his weapon, Harry and Gabrielle sheathed their own wands.

"Headmaster, this student attacked me. On top of attacking and seriously wounding me, he also attacked another student who is in the Infirmary being treated by Madam Pomfrey. The other student will most likely have lifelong scars due to Potter's attack. I demand that he be arrested, charged with battery and tried by the Wizengamot." Strangely, Snape's voice was cold and silky, unlike his usual blustering shout.

The tide turned quickly against Harry and Gabrielle. When the rubber hit the road, Harry had cast the first spell at Snape. Passive Legilimency could not be proven as it was a wandless spell and pensieve memories would not show the spell being cast. Only Veritaserum would indicate guilt or innocence and Harry strongly doubted Snape would willingly submit to the truth serum. Knowing the laws of Britain, Gabrielle would most likely be unable to offer testimony in his defence, her being a _dark creature_ and all.

Astonishingly, Dolores Umbridge spoke up in her sickly sweet voice. "Excuse me headmaster. If I understand my Lord Potter's recounting of the incident aright," she paused to simper at Harry, "Then he was merely defending his wife from attack. I'm sure that Professor Snape had drawn his wand for a much more benign purpose than my Lord Potter suspected, but then again, tempers were running high."

Minerva McGonagall was stunned and Harry had to suppress a snort at the expression on the tough as nails Transfiguration professor. Dumbledore was sitting back in his chair, waiting to see where the senior Ministry official turned Defence professor was heading.

Simpering at Harry and then turning to Snape with a slight scowl, Umbridge offered a solution, "I think it would be best to forget that this silly little misunderstanding ever happened. Unless we all _want_ this to reach a courtroom. I'm sure there is blame enough to go around on all accounts."

Dumbledore knew that if this reached the courtroom, Snape was doomed. The Wizengamot would crucify the unpopular Potion Master on general purpose, much less for attacking the highly popular Lord and Lady Potter.

Harry would not have any serious consequences because of his behaviour, but he would most likely be convicted of battery on Snape and expelled from Hogwarts. There would be no jail time, maybe a minor fine in the end. The embarrassment factor was very real as well. Gabrielle would be drawn through the muck in the media; an idea which no one relished. In the end, Harry would be a convicted felon and out of Albus' direct control. Both of these would impede the Headmaster's goals.

"I believe that Madam Umbridge has the best way of it," the Headmaster opined in a genial tone. Everyone else's jaw dropped in a most comical manner. Harry was about to become unglued when Snape screamed in frustration and stormed out of the room.

"Tsk, tsk. That man has anger management issues. Headmaster, if I may be so bold?" She continued without waiting for his answer, "The Ministry offers an excellent anger management course. If you'd like, I can forward you the pamphlet and possibly you could convince poor Severus to attend the course. It would do him a world of good, I'm sure."

The Defence professor had rambled through this little speech wearing her shockingly pink robes and her little innocent smile, yet underneath there was a steel and violence that made the Potters and McGonagall step back a pace or two. It was like standing next to an uncaged wild dog.

Umbridge picked up her bag, muttering, "Not good for the heart to be carrying around so much negative energy…" Pausing to consider, she turned to Harry and shook his hand with a limp wrist clammy hand. "My Lord, it has been such a pleasure to meet you in person. I've dreamed of this for quite a long time."

Turning to Gabrielle, the squat woman murmured, "How very …interesting, to meet you…my Lady." The last was so obviously forced and with such distaste that the woman's opinions were patently clear.

Before a wide eyed Gabrielle or red faced Harry could explode, Umbridge gave the Headmaster and the other occupants of the room her reptilian smile and a short nod before she left.

There was a long stretch of bemused silence until the headmaster broke it. "My Lord…"

Turning on his heel, Harry scooped up Gabrielle and the Potters whipped out of the office before Dumbledore could finish his sentence.

Dumbledore turned to McGonagall, expecting to find a sympathetic face. Instead, he found nothing but hostility. Minerva spun on her heel and as she left, muttered quite a vile curse in her native Gaelic concerning the Headmaster, his sexual proclivities and various barnyard animals.

.oOo.

After an incredibly volatile start to the school year, the next month and a half was eerily quiet. No confrontations, no issues of note. The Headmaster and Snape had been very quiet, thankfully. In Potions, Harry, Gabrielle and Hermione might as well not have existed. Snape did nothing to indicate that he was aware they were in class. It made Harry wary, but there were no new clashes.

Of course, Dolores Umbridge was a complete waste of magic and a confirmed oxygen thief. 'Wands away and books out' was her maxim for the activity she called teaching. To obviate death by boredom an inch at a time, Harry and Gabrielle had just read the entire book in two nights. It wasn't difficult, the book had been written for ten-year old children.

Harry had taken to transfiguring the covers of their advanced books for Transfiguration and Charms in order to read them during their Defence 'lesson'. Hermione had been quite upset at Harry's passive stance to the terrible lessons by Umbridge.

"Harry, we're not learning a thing!"

Nodding, he agreed, "True. What do you want me to do about it?"

"She wants something from you. To support the Minister or other such nonsense. Use that to get us better lessons."

Sitting back on the sofa, Harry frowned. Gabrielle was off to the owlery to have a letter delivered, so he and his oldest friend had the suite to themselves.

"I don't think it works that way. True, she wants the Boy-Who-Lived to support the Minister in a very public manner, but her Defence role here is merely an excuse to get close to me. I don't think that she's even remotely concerned about the classroom."

"But she's the Professor!" Hermione's outrage was borderline apoplectic.

Harry rolled his eyes as the portrait opened, admitting his wife. She smiled and nodded to him as she crossed the room. Seeing Hermione's red face and Harry's annoyed expression, Gabrielle asked, "What is wrong?"

"Your husband is being stubborn."

"No, your husband is right and your friend is being obtuse."

"Obtuse! I'll show you obtuse, Harry James!"

Hermione jumped up from her chair as if she had a spring in her butt but quickly retook her seat as Gabrielle grasped the bushy-haired witch's wrist and pulled her back down.

"I am sure that you are both being dense. Now, explain the problem."

After five minutes of the two friends explaining both perspectives of the problem, Gabrielle leaned back on the sofa, half on Harry. "You are both right and both wrong."

Turning to Harry she agreed, "Yes, Umbridge doesn't care about the Defence lessons, this much is plain to me."

Turning to Hermione, she continued, "I think that you are also correct. If the situation is approached properly, we can use Harry's support for the Ministry as a bargaining chip which possibly could allow or arrange for a better instructor here. Maybe even an Auror."

Harry made a sour face and murmured, "I don't want to sell my support for a better teacher. The idea makes me feel dirty."

This softly voiced admission hit Hermione in the gut and took the wind out of her sails. All the enthusiasm and vigour bled out of her and the Fifth Year witch's expression fell. After a long moment of silence, she offered, "I'm sorry, Harry. I…well, I didn't look at it from your perspective."

Giving a wan smile, Harry muttered, "It's Ok." Gabrielle took his hand and gave him a squeeze.

"No, it's not Ok. I let my passion for learning blind me to your own circumstances and I'm sorry for that. I shan't do it again."

Harry nodded in acceptance and like that, things between them were aright again. He exhaled loudly and asked the two most important women in his life, "So, how do we get someone good in here without me prostituting myself to the Ministry?"

They talked long into the night. Ideas like Harry offering ambiguous support in an interview were hit upon. Countering Fudge and supporting an effective opposition candidate for office also seemed somewhat viable. It could also relieve the Sirius situation; if the new Minister wasn't as banally corrupt and dim-witted as Fudge.

Hermione left shortly before curfew and as Harry closed the portrait behind her, he turned to Gabrielle who was pouring the last of the coffee for herself. "You did that on purpose."

She gave her little half smile, cocked a perfectly shaped eyebrow and asked, "Did what, my love?"

"Set her up to fall on the Defence professor issue."

Gabrielle's face hardened a bit as she set down her coffee cup. "She was being uncharacteristically inconsiderate. Her reverence for learning was blinding her and the only way to penetrate that self-imposed absorptive blindness was with verbal violence. I learned that from Mama; she can be quite brutal when imparting important lessons. Hermione needed to learn to think of others instead of her pursuit of the 'Almighty Outstanding'."

Flinching back at her vehemence, Harry thought about it. He didn't necessarily agree, but didn't disagree either. He knew that Gabrielle was merciless when she felt that Harry needed to be protected and apparently this was one of those times. Shrugging, he picked up her coffee cup and took a long slurp.

He set it down and noted Gabrielle's expression of amused exasperation. "Would you like some coffee, mon cher?"

Smiling brightly, he answered, "No thanks, I'm good now." Turning to the bedroom, he called out over his shoulder, "I think I'll turn in. Coming?"

Shaking her head and laughing under her breath, she followed him.

.oOo.

One thing that was quite troublesome was their uncovering Snape's use of Legilimency on students.

"If he did it on me, he either will or has been using Legilimency on you, mon cher."

Harry thought back to the Welcoming Feast and that _presence_ he felt in his mind. He'd forgotten to tell Hermione and Gabrielle about it, so he sucked it up and related the story. Hopefully they'd not yell at him too much, it was only a week into term.

Harry released the breath he'd been holding when neither of the young women lounging in the Potters' apartment started yelling at him. He did become concerned, though, when they began trading nervous expressions. Finally, he'd had enough.

"Alright. What's the big deal?"

"What?"

"You two. You're acting like this is a huge deal. I've no real secrets that I care if Snape knows about."

Hermione began ruffling through a book and muttered, "Yet."

Nodding his head in accession of the point, he waited for his bushy haired friend to find that for which she was looking.

"Occlumency," Gabrielle pre-empted her.

"That's it," and Hermione snapped her fingers. "I couldn't remember what it was called. I wonder if the library has any books on it?"

Gabrielle shrugged and stood to refill her tea, "If it doesn't, I'll owl Mama to send us a book or set us up with tutors."

Hermione frowned, "Do you think the Headmaster will allow a tutor into the school?"

With a toothy smile, Gabrielle responded, "Who says the tutor needs to be here in school?"

Hermione's expression went blank and then she began to chuckle at the point.

Harry was completely lost but didn't try to catch up. He knew them well enough to know that they'd tell him what he needed to know, when he needed to know it.

A small frown creased Gabrielle's face as she poured her tea. She silently offered to Harry who handed her his cup. He cocked his head in the unspoken question.

"If we ask for the book, Mama will want to know why. If we tell her, she will go insane and try to kill Snape."

Hermione smiled and began to laugh, but the laughter died in her throat at the serious expression of the Potters. "Really?"

Pursing her lips, Gabrielle considered. "Maybe not kill, but she will come here and do some significant damage; probably of the verbal kind, but if pushed, I could see her duelling with that cochon."

"So we ask your father?" Hermione asked.

"The Foreign Minister of Magical France?" Harry sarcastically asked in reply.

Gabrielle smacked herself on the forehead, a trait she displayed when she felt she'd been especially dim. With a sheepish expression, she told them, "We ask neither. We ask Fleur."

.oOo.

Reluctantly, Harry had restarted Quidditch. Despite his competitive love of the sport, he was hesitant to play. "I feel like I'm endorsing Dumbledore's Hogwarts by playing Quidditch while he's Headmaster," he told Gabrielle late at night as they cuddled in the afterglow of their love.

She purred as he pulled her close. After a comfortable silence, she asked, "Why can't you just play for yourself?"

"Because I'm a public figure and everything I do is scrutinized. I'm sure some weirdo out there knows exactly what I ate for breakfast yesterday, much less my Quidditch activity."

"You had fried eggs, bacon and two kippers, but that's not the point." He chuckled at her teasing, "In the end, it's not all about that…man." She spoke in a tight voice as she reined in her emotions. Her baser instincts were screaming to protect her mate and the urge to do violence on Dumbledore could burst upon her with surprising suddenness.

Regaining her focus, she continued, "You live for yourself. It's one of the things that I love about you. What is unfathomable for most people is that your truly are altruistic. You live for yourself, but in so doing, you try to help others in most all that you do. There aren't many people on the planet that can say the same. The only reason we are in Scotland and not France this evening, for example, is because you love your Godfather; again an illustration of how you live for others. You astound me even knowing you like I do." She kissed him softly, stretching it out to show her appreciation of him and his amazing capacity to love.

Her face was inches from him and her warm breath played on his face as she spoke. "Play Quidditch to spite him. Win every match to spite his machinations and manipulations. Do it for you, do it for me and do it for your team and fans. You are Harry Potter, husband of Gabrielle and father of our children to come and you bow to no man!"

Her inspiration had led to his current circumstances. He was three hundred feet in the air on his top of the line magical broomstick. Said broom was rated to have an average top speed in excess of four hundred and eighty kilometres per hour and he was fairly certain he had attained maximum velocity of his broom. Or possibly exceeded it.

And he loved every moment.

Diving, twisting and weaving he pursued the enchanted golden ball. The wind tore at his robes and flattened his hair to his head. From behind and to the right, a high-pitched whistling announced the imminent arrival of a bludger. Ever since his injury by the Dobby-powered bludger in his Second Year, he had worked very hard to always be aware of where the magically propelled iron balls were at all times. This was one time that practice paid off. Without taking his eyes off his prize, he casually side slipped to the left and the iron ball passed by well to the right.

The crowd was insane now in its frenzy. Gryffindor was beating the snot out of Slytherin, 230-20 and if Harry prevailed over Malfoy in this snitch run, the Slytherin humiliation would be great indeed. 'The Girls,' as the Gryffindor Chaser line was affectionately called, had been stellar in their offensive and defensive play. The Beater Brothers had dominated the opposing Chasers, even knocking one into the Infirmary. Despite his insufferable personal behaviour, the new Gryffindor Keeper was very good. Fred and George had pulled McLaggen aside a few times after practice to 'discuss' his attitude. He'd quieted down after the second such 'discussion'. Harry was sure that the bruises he saw were just coincidental. Really.

Emerald eyes locked on target. Harry subtly shifted his weight as he rode his caged lightning through the updrafts, downdrafts and thermals. His eyes narrowed as the snitch dropped vertically. Following the ball straight down, he would later reflect that he hadn't done that before in a match. Nonetheless, he was not to be denied and ten feet above the cropped grass of the pitch, he simultaneously corralled his prize and pulled out of his dive.

Bedlam reigned. Three fourths of the stands erupted in a volley of noise that threatened to cause physical pain to the ears of those gathered. None of them cared either.

Harry was mobbed by his teammates. Even McLaggen got into the spirit of the moment when George threw back his head and started Oliver's old chant. "Lions! Lions! Lions for the Cup!"

Fred clapped his brother on the shoulder and picked it up. The Girls too joined the twins in their chant, followed by a smiling Harry. The other six looked expectantly at their Keeper before he too joined in the chant. A joyous shout brought their attention to the Gryffindor stands, where a scarlet bedecked Oliver Wood stood, pumping his arms like pistons and screaming himself hoarse. He was smiling like a madman.

Standing next to the reserve Keeper for Puddlemere United were Hermione and Gabrielle, cheering and screaming. Harry hadn't ever felt better after a match.

.oOo.

AZKABAN DESTROYED – ALL PRISONERS ESCAPE

So read the headline of the _Daily Prophet_ the day after the mammoth victory of Gryffindor over Slytherin. Harry frowned into his eggs as he read the paper. They were eating in the Great Hall, which was uncharacteristically silent. Over half the current diners had a newspaper propped in front of them and the other half were reading over their neighbour's shoulder.

Harry sighed as he read down the list of escapees. With all the confusion created by so many escapees, the thought occurred to him that Sirius could probably slip through the cracks.

However, he was the infamous Sirius Black, right hand of Voldemort. In the eyes of the Ministry, he was second on the 'Capture or Kill' list after the Dark Lord himself.

The shuffling of robes caught Harry's attention and he looked up. Neville had just taken the spot across from Harry and Gabrielle. As his wife tugged the paper from him, Harry nodded to his friend and asked, "All right, Neville?"

Neville and Harry had become much better friends during their Fourth Year. Aside from his help in the Second Task of the Tournament, Neville had not only believed that Harry'd not entered the Tournament, but also made the effort to become more friendly too. They weren't the best of friends, maybe strong acquaintance was a more accurate description.

Nevertheless, that relationship had continued to grow this year. Harry was pleasantly surprised to find that Neville had a wonderful sense of humour; a very dry wit indeed. He just had to be comfortable with those around him before he showed that side of himself.

Neville shrugged in response to Harry's question. When Harry frowned and made to repeat himself, Neville muttered, "The Lestranges are out."

Confusion flitted across Harry's face and then it cleared with a realization. "Did they…?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, they hurt my parents."

Surprisingly, Gabrielle reached across the table and took Neville's hand. "Are you afraid?"

He frowned. "Not afraid, so much. More like it's a very unpleasant reminder."

She squeezed his hand and gave him a sad smile. He nodded in acknowledgement of the comfort. Harry was somewhat bemused by the situation. He wasn't jealous, that never entered his mind. It was Gabi's casual insertion of herself into the conversation and Neville's acceptance of her comfort that surprised him. Upon reflection, he realized that is what had happened when they first met. She also did that for Hermione after the Yule Ball blow-up with Ron. It was a valuable gift that she had, to be able to comfort people when they needed it.

"What's the Ministry doing about all this?"

Gabrielle scanned the rest of the article. "Doesn't say. Probably running about screaming at each other." She paused, reading further. "Looks like Director Bones is in the hospital with Dragon Pox and Head Auror Scrimgeour is on bereavement leave – his wife just passed away."

Harry shook his head in amazement, "Of all the worst times…"

Neville nodded. "Director Bones is pretty tough." Nodding to the Hufflepuff table, he continued, "She's Susan's Aunt and has taken care of Susan since her parents were killed."

Gabrielle's eyes twinkled, "Oh? And how is Susan these days?"

Harry laughed when Neville blushed and muttered something incomprehensible.

Catching his wife's eye, he winked at her. She flickered her eyebrows and once again, he was grateful to have her in his life.

.oOo.

It was late November and for once, Halloween had come and gone without a life changing event. The Potters, Hermione, the Weasley twins and Neville had 'slightly bent' the rules and had a small celebration the Saturday following.

After the twins finished their nonsensical toasts, ("May you all live to father five children!" "Congratulations to Harry and Gabrielle, I have no idea why you married, but Damn, Harry! She's a hottie!"), they settled down to a scrumptious meal.

"So I was, er, talking with Susan the other day," began Neville.

"Ohhhh? Really?" intoned Fred with a leering grin.

"Yes, really," replied Neville in a matter of fact tone, matching Fred's leer with a blank gaze. He continued to look at Fred for a long moment until the group all chuckled.

"Anyway, she got a letter from her Aunt and the word in the Ministry is that Fudge is losing a lot of support. It's back and forth, but the impression in the Wizengamot is that he's not doing anything about You-Know-Who and with Azkaban falling…there's some strong murmuring going on."

"But the attacks have pretty much stopped."

Gabrielle regarded George for a moment before replying, "And why would that be?"

Hermione answered for him, "The snake is coiling."

Everyone was quiet, digesting that revelation.

Harry swallowed the last of his roast and sat back in his chair. He was thinking hard and began tapping his fingers on the table as he stared off into space. Eventually, he returned to the discussion and asked, "Who's the likely candidate to replace him, Nev?"

Neville shrugged and guessed, "Probably Director Bones."

He caught Gabrielle's eye and raised his eyebrows in query. It was clear she was thinking along the same lines as she nodded in return. The politics complete for the evening, they began a systematic destruction of the food as only hungry teenagers can accomplish.

.oOo.

Gabrielle was reading her father's response to her letter over breakfast three days later. "Bones," she announced.

Harry nodded and sipped his tea. "Good. Did he say anything about my endorsing her or should we stay out of it?"

Reading down, she responded, "He thinks that Bones should be easily elected. She was too young at the last election and with the then recent fall from grace of Barty Crouch, the only other even remotely viable candidate was Fudge." She paused, chuckled and then read, "_Tell my son-in-law that he shouldn't have to publicly support Ms. Bones, but if he can't keep his nose out of it, to contact me before he acts. I know that will be hard, but to allay an old man's nerves, Harry, please try!"_

They both laughed and finished their breakfast. As Harry was packing his satchel for the day and Gabrielle was brushing her hair there came a light tapping at the portrait door.

Harry frowned as he stuffed an extra roll of parchment in his bag. No one knew where they resided outside of their close friends and their head of house. Glancing at the clock, he confirmed that the only one on that list that would be awake at this hour would be Hermione. "My Lord Zeus, who is at our door?" he asked.

To the left of the entryway, an empty portrait frame filled with the male half of their door wardens. "A squat, foul looking wench, my Lord."

Zeus had insisted upon calling Harry and Gabrielle 'My Lord' and 'My Lady' and in return, the Potters addressed their door wardens the same.

"Did you obtain her name?"

"Nay, mine wife is abusing her for her lack of decorum, though. Her robes of pink make even me, the Lord of Air, quite nauseous."

Now Harry and Gabrielle were both laughing. "Please let our visitor enter."

"And in the future?"

"Each time she visits, ask. Only those we've indicated so far can come and go at will."

Nodding, Zeus disappeared from the frame and a moment later, the door opened, revealing a red faced Undersecretary cum Defence Professor. She forcibly calmed herself, plastered her reptilian smile on her face and strode into the small apartment.

Unconsciously, Harry squared his shoulders to meet her head on. He smiled a more natural looking smile than his visitor's and nodded his head in what he hoped was a friendly looking welcome. He hadn't forgotten McGonagall's warning from the beginning of term.

Umbridge's disturbing smile widened further. Suppressing a shiver, Harry greeted her, "Good morning, Professor. What can we do for you this morning?"

The older witch crumpled her face and simpered to both Harry and Gabrielle. "My Lord, my Lady," she addressed each, "I was hoping that we could have a small discussion before our busy days overtook us." Indicating the sitting area, Umbridge asked, "May I impose?"

Harry nodded and handed Gabrielle into the overstuffed chair. He took the large wingback chair leaving the sofa for Umbridge. The Defence professor's eyes narrowed for an instant, but the sugary sweetness returned and she flounced down.

After a quick conjuring, Gabrielle poured tea for all three and they settled in to their seats. Gabi was horrified to see Umbridge put seven teaspoons of sugar in her cup.

Harry gave Umbridge a nod, and the toad-like woman began, "Thank you, my Lord, my Lady. You are most gracious in your condescension to allow this discussion. I've wanted to discuss matters of importance with you since the beginning of the year, but, alas, circumstances have prevented it." Harry maintained an impassive face but on the inside, he was rolling. _Circumstances such as you didn't know where to find us outside of class. _Her obsequiousness was so over the top that he didn't know whether to vomit or laugh.

Gabrielle smiled demurely and replied, "Of course, Madame. How can we be of service?"

Umbridge smiled at Gabrielle without hesitation. _Been working on that_, Harry fumed to himself.

"I find myself in a quandary, my Lord. I am foremost, your Defence professor." Gabrielle coughed to cover laughter. "But I am also a Senior Undersecretary to our Minister." She paused, giving the impression she was deliberating her next course of action.

Harry knew full well this was false. If she was anything like her reputation, Umbridge had rehearsed this conversation the night before.

"With the disturbing resurrection of the Enemy," Harry was surprised, he'd not heard this euphemism for Voldemort before, "Our Minister is under fire from groups that are rightly afraid. As such, he is being blamed for many deeds that are not his fault."

Umbridge shook her head like a parent contemplating a beloved but wayward child. Harry wanted to roll his eyes, but held on to his scorn. He needed to walk a thin line here, especially considering their proposed backing of Amelia Bones.

There was a pregnant pause and then she took the dive. "My Lord, I would like to know your thoughts about a public show of support for our Minister?"

Both Harry and Gabrielle had noticed the repetitious use of the word 'our' regarding Fudge, but chose to ignore it. "Well, I've not thought much about it at all," he replied. It was true, he'd considered it for approximately four and a half seconds and then discarded the idea as laughable.

Blinking furiously, Umbridge's sugary-sweet expression faltered and the smile became a scowl, the eyes narrowing in malice. Just as fast as the mien of anger surfaced, it was banished and the sugary-sweet expression was hoisted back into place.

"You-you've not considered it? At all?" she asked in forced incredulity.

Adopting an embarrassed expression, Harry looked down at his feet and half shrugged. Gabrielle rode to the rescue.

"Professor, my husband and I are not conversant in the ways of British politics. In France, for example, it would be considered most improper for a private citizen to volunteer support for a sitting politician unless that support was publicly solicited." Gabi faked a horrified expression and repeated, "Most improper."

Umbridge's expression was slack and stayed that way for a full two seconds. Finally, her brain caught up to the discussion, processed the new information and made a decision. Nodding in an understanding fashion, the woman that most the student body called, 'Old Toad-Face', simpered and replied, "Oh, dear. Of course you would be…unaware of the appropriate etiquette." The reptilian smile made a brief resurgence before Toad-Face continued. "Would you consider a public show of support of our Minister, my Lord?"

Harry made another show of deep thought before he replied. "I will consider it, Professor. As we have all admitted, I am very inexperienced in politics, so I must proceed carefully. I will discuss this with my wife," he indicated Gabrielle, "And with my father-in-law."

Umbridge's expression slipped again. Furious frustration coupled with a loss of control that was frightening flashed across her features. The Potters couldn't help themselves and drew back in fear.

Harry made a show of pouring for all three to cover the lapse. Again, Gabrielle rode to the rescue.

"Professor, to change topics, I've been meaning to ask you how a witch of your status in the Ministry finds enough time to manage your extraordinarily vital tasks for the Minister and your tasks here for the Headmaster? I'm sure that you mustn't get much sleep." Gabi finished her statement with a smile, trying her hardest to ingratiate herself into the dangerous woman.

Flashing the reptilian smile, Umbridge sighed theatrically. "Yes, it is quite difficult. Cornelius…pardon me. I mean, the Minister has very important projects and programs underway to better our society which need day-to-day management. I find my usual high quality of supervision suffering due to my crucial responsibilities here in the castle."

Gabrielle had a sad, understanding expression as she nodded. "You must sacrifice so much."

A noxious shrug from the repulsive woman, "I do what I can for our Minister and Britain."

Again, the understanding nod. "Why don't you get an assistant here? Maybe an Auror who can take your day to day duties so that you can supervise your Ministerial projects more closely and trust that the classwork is being executed appropriately. I'm sure that your most excellent skills can be spread more effectively in that manner."

Gabrielle waved her hands in an exaggerated excitement, "Oh, it would be wonderful! You could supervise here in the castle and in London. That way your extraordinary skills would be brought to bear in both arenas!"

Umbridge again paused, processing data before an expression blossomed that Harry and Gabrielle believed to be the only honest expression of the entire interview. Crafty, cunning planning. The quintessential Slytherin coming to the fore, Toad-Face eventually replied, "Thank you my Lady. I do believe I shall pursue this path. It is a most excellent suggestion." Umbridge moved to stand, causing Harry to stand as well. As she collected her purse, the Professor remarked under her breath, in an offhand way, "I was wrong about her, she can think when she isn't on her back."

Before Harry even realized what the woman said, Gabrielle had grabbed his wrist and risen to stand next to him. In a choked voice, she bid the professor adieu while the woman made her way out. Gabrielle kept her arm around Harry's waist, pinching his side viciously to keep him distracted.

The door closed and they were alone. Gabrielle dropped her arm and Harry shrieked in indignation and rage. He had enough self-control to refrain from running after the woman, but he was still incandescent in his fury. Magic pulsed off him like a heartbeat and Gabrielle finally had to embrace him and whisper reassuringly in his ear to help him calm down.

"I swear to God, if we didn't need her I'd skin her alive!" Harry thundered.

"Ssshhh, mon cher. She says nothing that I've not heard before, don't let it bother you."

"But it does bother me! It bothers me greatly!"

Holding him gently, she rubbed his back and helped him calm down.

Eventually, Mount Potter cooled and he gave her one last squeeze before letting go. "You, my dear, missed your calling. The theatre doesn't have any idea what it missed."

Gabrielle smiled and said, "I learned from Fleur. She is much better than I."

Rolling his eyes, he picked up their satchels and they made their way to class.

.oOo.

It was a Hogsmeade weekend and Fleur was waiting for the young couple at the Three Broomsticks with a room reserved.

Harry and Gabrielle ambled down the path to the front gates. They were early, so they decided to take their time and enjoy the weather. It had rained on and off since the Gryffindor/Slytherin match but the clouds had cleared off for their perambulations through the village.

Gabrielle tucked herself into her husband's side and savoured the closeness. He teased her about a 'moment' she'd had that morning. Every so often, she would become so excited by a project, lesson or homework assignment that she'd blather on about it until Harry would burst into laughter. She'd done that this morning about an Arithmancy assignment, causing her more athletically inclined husband to laugh uproariously.

She knew he wasn't trying to be unkind and didn't take offence. If they were exactly the same with identical interests, their life together would become boring quite quickly. He got his comeuppance when he would ramble on about Quidditch.

He teased and tickled her down the path, stopping every so often to let her pull him into the deep shade of a tree and kiss him as if their very lives were at stake. Her laughter made his heart soar and her smile would have melted a glacier in the dead of winter. Daily, he wondered what cosmic debt he'd been owed to draw Gabrielle in the Great Lottery of Life. Overall, it was a very enjoyable walk to Hogsmeade.

He held the door for her as she entered the pub. "Room three?"

Gabrielle nodded and headed for the stairs next to the bar. Harry touched her arm and winked at her, "Just in case," and preceded her up the stairs. With quick twist of his wrist, the holly and phoenix feather wand fell into his hand. A sharp rap of his knuckles on the door was answered by Fleur. Harry opened the door, saw his sister-in-law seated at a small table, drinks and a cold collation on a sideboard.

Fleur rose, a restrained smile on her face. She embraced Harry and then Gabrielle, briefly in both cases. After they availed themselves of drinks and sat, Fleur's serious expression returned. "Why have I purchased the best available guidebooks on Occlumency for the two of you?" she asked without preamble.

Harry exchanged a look with his wife. Sighing, he then cast a privacy charm on the room and the Door Sealing spell on the entrance to the room. After the squelching noise passed, he turned back to Fleur who was regarding him with apprehension.

"What?" he asked.

"When you start casting privacy spells and sealing entrances to rooms, the news is not good."

After a cynical laugh, he agreed. "True. It started at the Welcoming Feast…"

Ten minutes later, Fleur was pacing the room like an angry tigress swearing and muttering as she did so. "Cochon!" she exclaimed and threw her hands in the air.

Harry chuckled but stopped abruptly when Fleur's glare captured him. Pointing to his wife, he squeaked, "It's what Gabrielle called him."

Nodding in hostile approval to her sister, she ranted, "Good! He is a cochon!" and continued her pacing.

Five minutes later, Fleur had calmed to the point where she could sit and carry on a conversation without ranting and raving. They discussed their plans and Fleur committed to searching for a tutor for the couple.

"That would be great," Harry commented. "If you can't find someone who is _extremely discreet_," he gave his guidance in the form of a statement of fact, "Don't worry about it. I'm sure we can muddle through."

Fleur nodded her understanding and after forcefully expelling a lung full of air to regain control of herself, she smiled and asked, "So, what is it like to be married while still in school?"

.oOo.

A few weeks later, Harry and Neville were making their way to the castle after their late afternoon Care of Magical Creatures class. Neville was muttering, "Demented, he's just demented."

Harry laughed, "Mate, don't tell me that you think a manticore is too much for Fifth years? It was in a cage after all."

With a hint of hysteria left over from the lesson, Neville squeaked, "He wanted me to get in the bloody cage to feed the bloody thing!"

Harry just laughed harder and slapped his friend on the back.

They rounded a bend in the path back to the castle. Harry looked up and stopped mid-path, muttering curses. Neville took a few more strides, his head down, before he noticed his friend was no longer at his side. Turning back to Harry, the question in his throat died stillborn at the expression on Gabrielle's husband's face.

At first, there was a naked rage and hatred so intense that Neville was afraid. It was so unlike Harry that in that split second, he was sure that he really didn't know his friend after all. Neville could see Harry forcibly exert control over himself. The loathing disgust melted into a masked indifference. The entire process took less than a second, but it was there; frighteningly so. The Longbottom of Longbottom completed his turn to see what had inspired such strong feelings in his friend.

Ambling down the path was the Headmaster, all smiles and eyes twinkling. He greeted other students who were making their way back to the castle.

While watching the approaching wizard, Harry urged his friend in a tight, controlled voice, "Neville, you'd best head up to lunch. Tell Gabrielle that I'm detained by the Headmaster." When Neville hesitated, Harry looked away from the approaching old man and his expression softened.

"You sure, Harry? I can stay if you need me."

Smiling now, Harry shook his head gently, "Nah, go ahead. Remember to tell Gabrielle, though."

"Sure enough." Neville nodded to the Headmaster as he passed, receiving a grandfatherly wave in return.

Harry waited for his blackmailer on an open stretch of the grounds. No one was nearby to overhear, which could be seen as a positive or a negative. Either way he was in a hurry to get this forthcoming interview over. He and Gabrielle had been ignoring all summonses to the Headmaster's office and avoiding his person when out and about. Unfortunately, this time he was caught as the old man drew alongside him.

"My Lord, how are you this fine day?"

"I am well. What do you want?" Harry growled at the man.

Frowning, Dumbledore rejoined, "There's no need to be rude, my Lord. Let us take a short turn to the lake to savour this fine day."

"I will not take a turn with you. I repeat, what do you want?"

His frown deepening, Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "I'd hoped we could have a civil discussion…"

"Civil! You are blackmailing me and you don't understand why I am uncivil with you!"

Dumbledore flinched at the use of the word 'blackmail' and waved a hand in a calming motion. "No, you must be under a misunderstanding. Blackmail? No, no. Never in life."

For a fleeting moment, Harry dared to hope that the entire situation really was an incredible misunderstanding. Reality quickly returned, though. "You lie, old man. Since you won't get to the point, I'm leaving."

Quick as a snake, Dumbledore reached out to grab Harry's elbow as he strode by. As had been drilled into him all summer by Sensei Taguchi, Harry pivoted and struck out with his entire force.

Dumbledore's right elbow first hyper extended and then shattered with an explosive sound. The high-pitched scream of the old man reverberated for a moment and then faded into the Highland hills. Dropping to his knees, Dumbledore reached into his robes for his wand, but Harry was faster.

Deftly reaching and plucking, Harry came away with the old man's wand. "I told you last year to never lay hands on me again." Harry held up Dumbledore's wand and asked with a hint of malice, "Oh, are you looking for this?".

"Just for a healing spell, I assure you," Dumbledore gritted through clenched teeth.

Shaking his head, Harry was confused. "I don't understand you. You blackmail me to come back but are still trying to win me over with politeness and smiles. I don't…" Harry's eyes unfocused as he thought about the issue.

"You need me for something, don't you?"

Seeing the unguarded expression of surprise on the old man's face, Harry pressed, "What is it? What do you want? Why is it so important for me to be here?"

When Dumbledore didn't respond other than to moan in pain, Harry grabbed the other arm and hissed, "Want to go for the left arm? Now tell me, what is it you want from me? What is so vital for you to go through so much effort to get me here?"

Dumbledore said nothing and Harry dropped the man to the dirt in disgust. After looking at the Headmaster's plain wand for a moment, he murmured, "With this wand, you killed Grindlewald."

Casually, Harry cast a Numbing charm on the old man's elbow. Then, he reared back and threw the wand as hard as he could in the general direction of Hagrid's hut. Without looking at the aged Headmaster, he commanded Dumbledore one last time.

"Leave me be."

Spinning on his heel, he headed up to the castle to find his wife and to see if he might be able to stomach his dinner.

.oOo.

Dinner wouldn't take as his stomach was closed. Harry silently kissed his wife, motioned for her to stay and finish her meal while he retired to their rooms.

Harry was standing at the window, which overlooked the lake when he heard the door open, presumably to admit his spouse. He continued to look out over the darkening landscape, the shadows mixing and lengthening as Sol performed his ancient dance, traversing the horizon for the second time that day.

Silently, she glided behind him and gently wrapped her arms around his waist from behind. With tender movements, she chastely enveloped him and laid her cheek on his back.

"Neville told me you met up with him."

He was silent and she let him be. Gabrielle knew her husband would speak when he was able and not a moment sooner. She trusted him to tell her what he could, when he could. As she had done many times and would do countless more times over the next one hundred and fifty seven years they would have together, she held him and did her best to comfort him.

Eventually, the steel cords of his muscles relaxed and he leaned back into her embrace.

"I hurt him, today. Badly."

He couldn't see it, but she was frowning and very upset. _What did that bâtard do to provoke My Love so?_

In an undertone, Harry told her what had transpired on the path from their Magical Creatures lesson. In a defeated, shamed voice he ended, "…I severely hurt him. Completely overreacted. He was just going to stop me and I reacted as if I were in battle. I was wholly inappropriate, yet my conscience offers up no guilt for my behaviour."

He shrugged and was silent for some time. She began to think he was done when he whispered, "For some strange reason he's trying to win me over to his side and doesn't see that it's impossible. He wants something from me and I have no clue as to what it could be."

A thick silence blanketed the room. Gabrielle tightened her hold on Harry. She felt like they were losing this struggle and that she needed to anchor him to the earth lest he be flung into space. The struggle wasn't with the Headmaster or even with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Rather the struggle was with their baser natures.

Daily, she had to suppress the urge to do damage to Dumbledore. Snape was as odious as Harry and Hermione had described and she had to rigidly prepare and conduct herself in his presence, otherwise she was afraid that she'd lash out at the detestable man. With time and familiarity, these urges were more easily managed and, in the case of Snape, subsided a little.

Apparently, Harry, too, had issues with the aged Headmaster. Even at this point in the school year, Gabrielle couldn't look the man in the face for fear of losing control of herself.

A small teardrop of pure emotion dripped down her cheek. "I love you. I love you with all my soul," she breathed just loud enough for Harry to hear, understand and cherish.

They stood there long, drawing strength and support from one another. Neither slept well that night.

.oOo.

Finally, winter term exams were complete. Their core classes had been easy so far. The extra studies in Charms and Transfiguration had been slower paced than their summer studies, but not too drudgery.

"I'm surprised, but Professor Sprout's class has been quite challenging," Gabrielle mentioned as she brushed her hair before bed.

Harry stopped packing and regarded his spouse with a confused expression before he shrugged.

"Don't forget to pack the gifts."

"Already done. I put them in your trunk after I shrunk them."

She nodded and after a moment stopped brushing her hair. With a troubled expression, she asked, "Are you nervous about Christmas?"

"With your family?"

"With _our_ family," she gently corrected.

He smiled and nodded. "Our family," he acknowledged. "Yeah, I'm looking forward to it. Is Fleur going to be back at all?"

Gabrielle nodded, "Yes, she will be home from the 21st to the 26th."

Nodding he dropped the last of his robes in the trunk and with a flourish, announced, "Voila! We are now packed, milady Potter!"

With a small smile, she rolled her eyes and finished brushing her hair.

The next morning, Harry shrunk the trunks and placed them in his pocket. After draping Gabrielle's heavy winter cloak over her shoulders, he donned his own. Grabbing the red ribbon that had arrived with the last post, he and Gabrielle headed for the front gates.

Once outside the wards, Gabi pinched the ribbon that Harry held and murmured, "Activate."

When the world stopped spinning, they found themselves in the foyer at the Delacours' primary home on the western end of the Île de la Cité in the 4th arrondissement of Paris. The Heart of Paris, all distances are measured from the more well known of the two natural islands in the Seine as it winds through the City of Light.

In a matter of fact fashion, Gabrielle handed her cloak to the newly arrived house elf. She started to move away when she noticed Harry rooted to the spot, obviously stunned at the wealth and beauty on display.

She smiled at his slightly open-mouthed stare and moved to his side. Gently closing his mouth with her hand, she giggled when he shook himself out of his stupor. Still slightly bemused, he shook his head and muttered, "I had no idea." The home could have been a palace.

"That my family was this wealthy?"

He half shrugged in embarrassment but smiled when she laughed again. "I told you a while ago, we had money. This is why," she indicated the impressive entry hall with her hand, "My parents didn't really react to Rowan Hill. Despite its impressive beauty, it's very much like our Paris home."

Nodding again, he squirmed a bit.

Dawning understanding broke over Gabrielle so she wrapped her arm around Harry's, pulling him into a sitting room off the foyer. "Mon cher, the Potters and the Delacours are social and economic equals. You have nothing to concern yourself with on that front. You are not inferior in any way shape or form. If anything, our peerage is an advantage for us over my parents. We'd be introduced before them at a public gathering." She gave him a sultry smile and pressed herself against him, "In fact, you are quite superior in many ways."

Harry blushed and drew her close. "Sorry, sometimes it's hard to shake growing up under the stairs in Surrey."

She nodded, her genial expression masking her rage at the Dursleys. _Someday._

"Harry? Angel?" Marie called.

Gabrielle made a cute pouting face, "See, my mother already calls for you before she calls for me."

Harry laughed. A deep belly laugh that dispelled any lingering ill humour.

Marie appeared at the door in a deep green velvet dress looking devastatingly beautiful. Her face broke into a wide smile and she opened her arms. "Mes enfants," she welcomed.

There was a dinner party that evening, a regular occasion where Henri and Marie played host to the upper crust society of magical Paris. Before they were married, Harry and Gabrielle could bow out of the festivities, but as Lord and Lady Potter, they were in high demand.

Marie had a bit of advice for them before the first guest arrived, "Do your best to be amiable this evening. Even to the idiots, eh?"

There were quite a few idiots. Fortunately, the bulk of the guests were pleasant people who were on their best behaviour. Sidling up to his mother-in-law, Harry caught her in an unattended moment and quietly asked, "Did you arrange this 'coming out' for us to accidentally happen in your home in the Christmas season?" His smile and shining eyes conveyed the unspoken gratitude for her solicitude.

With false surprise, she answered with exaggerated manners. "Accidentally? Would I be so incredibly sneaky and crafty as to arrange this so as to smooth your entrance into Parisian society? Would I look out for my favourite youngest daughter and favourite son-in-law?"

Rolling his eyes, he kissed her on the cheek, surprising her for real. "Thanks, mum."

She gave him a genuine smile, patted his cheek and they went back to mingling.

Henri had discreetly summoned Harry and they became the anchor of the 'politicos' for the evening. Anyone and everyone who was either an active politician or an aspiring politician rotated through their circle after dinner.

Taxes were briefly touched upon, but given Henri's office and Harry's presence, British-French relations was the hot topic for the evening.

Some of the statements and questions were simply preposterous. "Monsieur Potter," a short, oily man with an incredible comb over and a pinched expression began. Literally, the part in the man's hair was a half-inch above his left ear. Harry recognized the politician. He had impertinently asked about his and Gabrielle's status when Harry'd testified in front of Le Confederation regarding Voldemort's resurrection.

From Henri, Harry heard him mutter, "Calvo turpius est nihil compto." Henri followed with the translation, "There's nothing more contemptible than a bald man who pretends to have hair."

Harry chuckled while Henri rolled his eyes at the man's stupidity. Harry had been introduced to Le Confederation as Baron Potter and here was this man dropping his title. Compounding his rudeness, he asked his question in broken English, when it was known that Harry was fluent in French. Imbecile.

"Monsieur Potter, do you foresee a protracted war with your Dark Lord? If so, what do you propose your country do to contain his depredations to Great Britain?"

Harry stared at the obnoxious man for a heartbeat, long enough so the staring was noticeable by the intended party and he began to fidget. The trick was one he'd learned from Fleur. It was a way in which she dealt with unwanted suitors.

Finally, he drawled his answer in French, "That is an incredibly complex question that I am not in a position of authority to respond. I would direct you to the British Ambassador or to Foreign Minister Decatur for a more comprehensive answer." Looking at the man through half lidded eyes, he lazily tacked on, "Sir."

With a curt nod to all, Harry excused himself and wandered to the balcony, catching a breath of fresh air and cooling off as well. Leaning on the wrought iron rail of the balcony, he gazed down into the modest back garden of the home and then back up where he could see the top of Notre Dame illuminated in the night.

The sounds of one of the largest cities on the planet filled the nighttime silence. He cocked his head, trying to decipher the argument he could just make out on the edge of hearing; something ab0ut an auto and a dent. Smiling in amusement, he gave it up as a bad job and continued to cool his body and calm his mind.

The attitude of the oily 'idiot' really bothered him, however. Because he was the Boy-Who-Lived, many magicals expected him to clean up the messes of society and make everything all better. Witness the Heir of Slytherin situation and the resurrection of Voldemort. He realized that Mr. Oily Bald Man had been poking at him because he was British, but the sentiment was too close for comfort. It wasn't his job to clean up what society didn't have the will or gumption to deal with appropriately.

He was cooling off, but not calming down. Shaking his head to try to clear it, what he really needed wrapped her arms around him from behind and nuzzled the back of his neck.

A smile slowly blossomed on his face and he relaxed into her embrace once again. No words were spoken, but he felt inestimably recovered from his funk. Finally, she asked, "Better?"

"Much, thanks."

He turned in her arms and pulled her to his chest. She was wearing an evening gown that made him wish it were much later in the evening. Midnight blue that was form fitted to her knees and a slit up to mid thigh. Shaking his head to keep from ravishing her right there, he asked, "How's your evening been so far?"

She rocked her head back and forth and answered, "Fair. I've run into some old friends and it was actually most disturbing."

He looked at her questioningly so she continued, "They are children. I did not realize that our lives were so different from others of our age. They were prattling on about clothes and boys." She shrugged and looked off into the night.

Frowning at her statement, Harry started and stopped a question four times before he got it right. "Do you wish your life was different?"

She snorted and looked at him with an incredulous eye. "That is a ridiculous question, mon cher." Looking back to the night, she said, "I have all that I've ever wanted and more. It is just jarring to see the difference between my friends' lives and ours."

They stayed together the rest of the evening. Mingling, they fended off a few idiots and enjoyed the company of the more pleasant company. Finally, the last guests left around midnight. The Delacours and Potters exchanged tired looks before heading off to bed.

The evening had been a successful trial. Harry and Gabrielle had navigated the waters of Parisian society in a respectable manner. Granted, the deck had been stacked in their favour, but some of the Delacours' 'friends' were friends of necessity vice preference. These had provided the young couple more than a few challenges.

The rest of Christmas break alternated between familial relaxation and society parties. Fleur's arrival had been like a windstorm; all shrieks and laughter followed by an explosion of presents. Later, she and Gabrielle disappeared for a bit. Harry smiled, Gabrielle had missed Fleur greatly and didn't begrudge them their time to catch up.

He left word with Marie and took off on a walk. With a map of Paris in the hip pocket of his jeans, he put on his dragonhide coat and boots and headed for the Pont Neuf.

Crossing the ancient bridge, he absently noted that the river had crusted over with ice but there was no snow on the ground. His breath puffed in front of him as he ambled down the banks of the Seine.

He smiled to himself, _Most people only dream about walking down the banks of the Seine_. Observation followed wonder as he did his best not to get lost. After an hour of wandering, stopping to investigate a shop here and there, he headed back to the Pont Neuf and the Île de la Cité.

Red cheeked, he entered the house. The heat of the fire washed over him like a physical presence; a welcome feeling indeed. From deeper in the house, he heard someone playing a piano, singing – he thought it was Gabrielle - and laughter. Smiling, he hung up his jacket and moved to find his family.

In the family's drawing room, he found Fleur seated at the piano. Gabrielle sat next to her sister while the elder Delacours stood behind their daughters. He paused, suddenly feeling awkward and didn't know if he should join them or slink away to the library or their rooms.

The shout of "Harry!" from all four ended the doubts. Marie vigorously waved him to the piano while Fleur asked, "Mon frère, can you sing?"

"Not a bit."

"Excellent!" cried Henri. "I shall not feel so alone! Come!" He waved Harry to stand next to him as Fleur began to pound out 'Bring a Torch, Jeanette, Isabella'. Harry was beginning to experience Christmas as part of a proper family and later that night, his beloved asleep at his side, he wept for joy.

The next day, Fleur cornered the Potters in the kitchen and explained that she had been unable to find a discreet Occlumency tutor. Harry shrugged, "We've been studying the books and practicing daily. Thanks for trying, though."

Fleur left on Boxing Day, she was to spend the day with Bill Weasley and the Weasley brood at the Burrow. This got her quite a few glares from her parents. She flushed and looked defiant before moving to her room to pack. Gabrielle frowned and then followed. The girls were up there for quite a while, but again, Harry didn't fret, he had learned the past summer how close the sisters were.

After an hour or so, Fleur came downstairs, a fashionable bag hanging from her shoulder. She gave Henri and Marie reserved goodbyes before embracing Harry. "Au revoir, Harry. I love you mon frère."

"I love you too, Fleur."

She broke away, gave him a smile and hugged Gabrielle for a long time. They had a whispered conversation and Gabrielle nodded to her sister as Fleur apparated to her London apartment to drop her luggage before heading to Devon.

Henri and Marie had sad expressions as they turned back to the sitting room. Now Harry was a bit curious as to what was going on. Gabrielle hooked her arm in his, leading him to the library.

When the door was shut and an Imperturbable charm cast, Harry finally asked, "What's going on?"

Gabi sighed as she sat on the couch, patting the seat next to her for him to sit. When he did, she put her head on his shoulder and exhaled, "Fleur had a fight with Mama and Papa."

Surprised, he asked, "About what?"

"Bill Weasley."

Thoroughly confused, he parroted, "Bill?"

"Papa is concerned that Bill is not entirely suitable for Fleur. Mama agrees. Both like him as a person as he has most agreeable behaviour. However, they do not believe that he could fit into this lifestyle," and she waved to indicate the home and the society they had been moving in the last two weeks.

"To compound the issue is you."

"What!?"

She gently rubbed his arm to attempt to calm him. "You have inserted yourself into our family life with very little trouble and this has impressed my parents. They believe that part of the reason is because of your wealth and title." She shrugged apologetically, "My parents are a little snobbish."

Harry was surprised and a bit offended. Most of the time, he had to be reminded of his title and he'd never really accessed his wealth until he and Gabrielle went Christmas gift shopping a month ago. That Henri and Marie saw 'Baron Potter, multi-millionaire' in lieu of 'Harry' when they looked at him, broke his heart a little.

Frowning, Gabi asked, "What is bothering you, mon cher?"

He half shrugged, sulking a little. This lasted for approximately two and a quarter seconds until Gabrielle prodded him in the ribs saying, "Tell me. Now."

He explained his hurt feelings to which Gabrielle wrapped her arms around him. After a long moment of silence, she began, "Cher, please hear me out before you get very angry."

She paused until he nodded in response. Her opening statement hadn't been auspicious.

"You must realize and accept that you _are_ Baron Potter, multi-millionaire. Just as you are the Boy-Who-Lived. It doesn't make you any better than anyone else, it's a part of who you are. Because you dislike the notoriety that comes with these aspects of your life doesn't invalidate it. I dislike the stares and comments that come with being Veela, but I have accepted that part of me. For better or worse, I am Veela." Softly, she finished, "Just as you are Baron Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, TriWizard Champion, Basilisk Slayer and so on. It is part of who you are. Not all, but a part."

She paused and watched his expression as she let these thoughts percolate. His brow furrowed and his eyes became vacant as he obviously was considering what she was saying. And not saying.

Continuing, she softly explained, "My parents only know you here and at White Rock. They had interacted with you for but a day at school, so that doesn't count. Mostly it had been this summer and now. Based on your behaviour, they are right to be impressed."

Scowling, he gave her a disbelieving look.

She rolled her eyes in return, "You have adapted to this lifestyle like you've been brought up in it. Your manners are impeccable, you went out of your way to learn French – which Fleur tells me that Bill will not do – and you have followed the rules of decorum by approaching my parents and winning them over."

"Bill is a name and a face they vaguely remember from the morning before the Third Task and our luncheon before the start of school. He would have done well to come over for Christmas dinner. Apparition is very possible between Devon or even London and here, yet he did not come. Mama, in particular, was not impressed."

Harry was beginning to see her points, and the points of the Delacours. By their lights, Bill was not behaving in a gentlemanly manner. However, their opinions of him?

Sighing, he pulled her close and absently kissed the crown of her head. "Love you," he muttered.

She squeezed him tight to her in response and waited. Knowing him as she did, she could tell that he was beginning to accept what she had told him despite disliking it.

"Thanks for that."

She smiled. It was nice being right.

Harry was quiet all afternoon and after dinner, he pulled Gabrielle aside and told her, "I've got an errand to run; I'm not sure how late I'll be."

She frowned as he pulled on his coat. "Where are you going?"

With a determined expression, he moved to the entry hall fireplace, grabbed a handful of Floo powder and answered her. "To talk to Bill."

Tossing the glittering powder in the fireplace, he shouted out, "The Burrow, Devon, England!"

The fire roared green and after a quick peck for his wife, Harry spun away.

The previous summer, he found the Floo ride from White Rock to Paris to be interminable. This ride to Devon from Paris seemed to be twice as long. He was so dizzy as he flopped out of the fireplace like a dead fish that he was afraid he'd upchuck all over Mrs. Weasley's parlour rug.

"Harry?"

Shaking his head to clear the dizziness, he looked up to see a gaggle of redheads standing over him. Weakly he waved and sat up. Another quick shake of his head and he could see again. Mr. Weasley helped him to his feet, brushing the lingering soot from Harry's jacket.

"Happy Christmas to you, son. Even if it's a day late," Arthur Weasley offered.

"And a Happy Christmas to you as well, sir. I hope you all had a joyous day?"

"We did, Harry. We did. Fleur mentioned that you were with your in-laws in Paris for the Holiday."

The rest of the Weasleys had yet to disperse and they all stood there listening to Harry and Arthur exchange pleasantries as if it was the most important conversation in the world.

Feeling a bit uncomfortable with the crowd, Harry nodded and answered, "Yes. We've had a wonderful holiday so far."

"Good, good. Come into the kitchen, Molly has cocoa on the hob and I'm sure there's still some tea left in the pot."

Now the entire troupe marched into the kitchen and Harry gave friendly nods to the assembled. Ron gave a distant nod and then broke eye contact. The twins gave Harry a friendly clap on the back. Ginny was a surprise in that she greeted him with a calm, yet friendly, "Happy Christmas Harry."

Fleur was watching Harry with a curious eye. He avoided her gaze but sought out Bill's. When he caught Bill's eye, he indicated the back door with a jerk of his chin. After a moment's confusion, the eldest Weasley son nodded. He leaned into Fleur, whispered something in her ear, which caused Harry's sister-in-law to narrow her eyes at her brother-in-law.

Harry accepted a mug of tea and then whispered to Mrs. Weasley, "I need to speak with Bill. We'll be out back."

She looked at him with an odd expression and then nodded. He moved out the door and found Bill on the back porch, leaning on a rickety rail. He was looking up at the night sky, patiently waiting for Harry.

Sidling up to the tall man, Harry suddenly felt incomparably inadequate for the task he'd set for himself. Who the hell did he think he was to be telling this full grown man how to woo a woman? He was just a kid!

Shaking off his doubts, his Gryffindor heritage took over and Harry sipped his tea to wet his throat. Before Harry could say anything, Bill said, "This is about Fleur, isn't it?"

Harry was alarmed at the resigned air of Bill's statement. It seemed like Bill was already giving up on his relationship with the girl. Hurriedly, he reassured him. "Kind of. Really, it's about Henri and Marie."

Confused, Bill turned to Harry and asked, "Huh?"

Harry smiled at Bill's eloquence. "First off, I'm here to help. I like you Bill, and I'm fairly certain that Fleur _really_ likes you."

Bill smiled softly and nodded. "So, with that cleared up, what's going on?"

Harry then laid out the discussion he'd had with his wife earlier in the day, softening the edges as much as he could. "Look, I'm just a squit who grew up in Surrey. I'm nothing special, but I really wanted Henri and Marie to approve of me for Gabrielle's sake. They're her parents so I went all out. I read so many etiquette books I felt like barfing. Learning French was a must from my point of view. Look at Fleur, she has made a point to learn English and has lost a lot of her accent, yeah?"

Bill was now looking at his shoes. Muttering, he answered Harry, "Yeah, she has."

Bill gave a heaving sigh when Harry fell silent. "I've been a berk, haven't I? I could tell that something was bothering her all day, but she wouldn't say." Shaking his head in disgust at his behaviour, he accused himself, "Prat."

"I don't know about that, but maybe a little more effort would go a long way." Catching the implications of his statement, Harry backtracked a bit, "Assuming that you're really serious about Fleur."

Bill looked at Harry long. His blue eyes were piercing and searching in a way he'd never seen any of the Weasley's before. Finally, he answered Harry, "Yes, I'm very serious about her."

"Ok, then. Good."

Bill shook his head and chuckled to himself, "I can't believe that I'm being taken to task by a fifteen year old."

Harry laughed and took a deep draught of his tea. "I know. I almost didn't come because of that, but I love Fleur. I'm pretty sure she's very serious about you and I want her to be happy. If she's unhappy, then Gabrielle is unhappy and that is something I go out of my way to prevent." With mock seriousness, he warned Bill, "Don't you hurt her, or you'll have to deal with me, buster."

Now Bill did roll his eyes and laugh just as the back door opened. Fleur was framed by the open door and quietly closed it behind her. Walking up to Bill, she put her arm around his waist while he wrapped his around her shoulders. "Harry," she asked in a quiet voice, "Why are you here?"

Glancing up at Bill and then back to Fleur, he smiled. "Just a bit of guy talk. I think I'll be heading back, Gabrielle's probably worried sick that I've been gone this long." He bussed her cheek, shook Bill's hand and then made his way through the assembled Weasleys to the fireplace in order to Floo back to Paris.

.oOo.

The holidays were winding down, just a few more days before they'd head back to school. The best present they'd received had been from Marie. Gabrielle had badgered her mother into teaching her and Harry how to apparate. It only took an hour before the two Potters were popping all over the home.

Lunch had been a massive undertaking. Afterwards, a stuffed Harry had made his excuses and waddled to their room for a nap. After an hour or so, the insistent tapping of an owl on the window woke him.

Half asleep, he muttered, "About time you got back, Hedwig. Been worried about you."

Pushing his glasses on his face, Harry saw that it wasn't Hedwig outside the window. Opening the window, the strange owl hopped in the house and promptly extended its leg.

After removing the rather small letter, Harry absently fed the owl a few treats. He was rather preoccupied; the handwriting on the address was clearly Sirius'.

Breaking the wax seal that Sirius always used on his letters, Harry quickly scanned the note. First puzzlement mottled his face, followed by flashes of frustration, annoyance, pity and finally his expression settled on regret.

Gabrielle came in to check on him at this point and found her husband sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at a blank wall. Seeing the letter in his hand, she asked, "Is all well?"

When he turned to her, she nodded at the letter to which he uttered a semi-surprised, "Oh." Handing it to her, he offered, "Read it yourself."

Sitting next to him on their bed, she took the note. They hadn't heard anything from Sirius since the summer and Harry had been very worried. Gabrielle was of two minds; she was concerned for the man's well being yet at the same time, very angry that he was the reason Harry was in such a bind with Dumbledore.

Sighing as she read the missive, she admitted to herself that the anger was unreasonable. Yes, Sirius was in the middle of the blackmail, but it wasn't his fault. That dubious honour fell at the feet of 'The Leader of the Light'.

At the end of the letter, she felt even more pity for Sirius. He had prostrated himself in the letter, begging Harry to forgive him for all the wrongs, real and imagined, that Sirius had ever done him. Somehow, he must have had a hint of the Dursleys' behaviour as he went on about how it was his entire fault. He blamed himself for Harry's upbringing, if one could call it that.

"If I'd been there like I'd promised your parents, none of that would have happened," she read aloud. Turning to Harry she saw him in deep thought and realized he was about to do _something_.

"What's on your mind, cher?"

Shaking himself out of his daze, he answered, "I'd like to talk to him about all that," he gestured to the letter. "But, as he says in the letter, the house he's in now is under the Fidelius."

"So write him a letter."

Harry shrugged, "I guess it'll have to do for now."

Scooting closer to him, she rubbed his back with her free hand and asked, "How are you about this?" She held up the letter to indicate her meaning.

Running his hand through his mussed hair, he answered, "Confused. He did leave me when I was young to chase after Pettigrew. He ought to have taken care of me, but instead got taken up in his revenge." Harry was noticeably upset by the end of his mini rant.

Gabrielle slowly dragged her hand through his hair, calming him a bit. He sighed and added, "But at the same time, who am I to condemn anyone for acting rashly based on their emotions?" Ruefully smiling to himself, he shook his head.

He was silent for a minute so Gabrielle asked, "Do you forgive him?"

Harry considered for a long moment and then answered in a low voice, "Yes."

"Then tell him."

Nodding, he gave her a quick kiss before moving across the room to the small writing table from which he pulled out a sheet of parchment.

.oOo.

Christmas Holidays ended on a high note. Harry's reply to Sirius was well received and the man sent a three-page letter, written very small, extolling Harry's – and he assumed Gabrielle's- virtues. With that settled, they headed back to Scotland with warmth in their belly that had been missing on September first.

Henri had pulled each of the Potters aside the day before they left for the UK. When Harry sat in the study with his father-in-law, he saw a pensive expression on Henri's face that he'd not seen before.

"Harry, I'm very c0ncerned about your return to Hogwarts."

Furrowing his brow at Henri's very serious tone, he waited.

"Your Professor Snape will not be able to control himself. I know men like this and everything you and Gabrielle have told me points to him eventually losing control. Since he has been forcing himself to behave for such a long time, his loss of control will most likely be extreme. Extremely _deadly _to be precise. Be on your guard around him and those who would act as his agents. A man who has taken the Dark Mark, regardless of protestations of redemption, is an inherently evil man."

Harry nodded silently at the advice. It was sound, but not really practical. _All of Slytherin house could act as his agent if he really put his mind to it._ Gabrielle had been working on Harry's attitude toward the Cunning and Ambitious house. Intellectually, he knew and admitted that not everyone who sported the green and silver was evil. In fact he'd come to know a handful of Slytherin's in his year that were decent people. Daphne Greengrass in particular was a really nice girl. If he wasn't with Gabrielle, who knows what could have happened there.

Returning to the present, he caught Henri's repeated admonition to be on his guard. Harry nodded and reassured the man, "I will, sir, and I'll take care of Gabrielle as well."

A relieved smile broke on Henri's face, "Good. I know that you will put forth all that you are for our Angel. Thank you."

Later, Harry reflected on how surreal the discussion had been. He still wasn't used to being treated like a peer with adults. Social acceptance was one thing. A person could be quite polite and nice to your face and then verbally abuse you behind your back. This acceptance by a man that he respected was still a bit unsettling though. Hopefully, he'd be worthy of such honour.

.oOo.

Walking into the Great Hall for lunch the first day back, Harry stopped short. Gabrielle had been holding his hand and allowing herself to be led as she puzzled over an assignment for Arithmancy. She was jerked back to reality when his sudden stop almost pulled her over.

"I'm such an idiot"

Eyebrows rose in curiosity, as she asked, "What is the reason this time, mon cher?"

Rolling his eyes at her implication, he nodded toward the Hufflepuff table. Still confused, Gabrielle asked, "I don't understand…"

He resumed walking to the Gryffindor table and explained to her in a low voice. "Susan Bones is currently sitting at the Hufflepuff table."

"Yes?"

"Her aunt is Amelia Bones, the Director of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Yes?"

Thoroughly annoyed, he scowled, "Sirius?"

Slowly she closed her eyes and banged her head on the table. After a moment's self-flagellation, she muttered, "I'm such an idiot."

"So too is your father."

Nodding in resignation, she agreed, "Yes he is. But I'll let you tell him."

He laughed and dug into his lunch. "Shall we invite her and…say, Neville to dinner in our suite this evening for dinner?"

She giggled as she ladled soup from the tureen. "I think that's a wonderful idea." She laughed softly, "And I think Neville will too, once he recovers from his faint."

.oOo.

Hera announced the first of their visitors that evening. "Susan Bones to see you my Lord."

With an exaggerated bow, she moved to the door portrait at Harry's response of, "Please, let her in milady."

The redheaded Susan Bones came into the suite, shaking her head a bit. She smiled to Harry and asked, "Are all the door wardens so…odd?"

Harry laughed and answered, "Most are, yeah. What do you have for Hufflepuff?"

With a small smirk, she answered, "A door."

"Just a door?"

She shrugged and looked around, "We don't need anything fancy. A door works fine for us. Remember, we're 'Puffs; _Labor Omnia Vincit._"

Harry laughed as Gabrielle joined them from the bedroom. The two young women began chatting about their project in Ancient Runes leaving Harry to attempt to decipher their discussion. Being three years behind them didn't help him at all.

Hera returned to announce Neville who joined them thereafter. "Hey, guys. I …" he trailed off when he saw Susan sitting next to Gabrielle on the sofa. "Er, hi Susan."

With a small smile, Susan responded, "Hi, Neville."

The Potters smiled while the other two teens gazed and blushed at each other. Gently, Gabrielle asked, "Neville, I hope you have brought your appetite?"

Blinking rapidly, Neville returned to the land of the living and answered, "Oh. Most definitely. Hagrid had us running all over today chasing after some Nifflers. Very interesting creatures, but quick as I don't know what."

They chatted for a bit. Gabrielle and Susan were not taking Care of Magical Creatures, but the men were. Trying to strike their most comical, Harry and Neville recapped some of the more _truly_ interesting creatures they'd studied, vs. the certifiably lethal ones.

Gabrielle and Susan were laughing hard as Harry and Neville capered and recreated their first attempt to 'walk' their Blast Ended Skrewts last year. "So there was Dean, his arm was caught up in the leash for his Skrewt and in a flash he was dragged halfway to the North Sea behind his lobstrocity. Every so often he bumped up in the air all the while screaming like a little girl."

Neville collapsed on the sofa next to Susan, laughing merrily. Harry was bent over, his hands on his thighs, trying to catch his breath. Gabrielle was half lying on the sofa, limply giggling.

A few minutes later, their mirth melted away and after eyes were wiped and noses blown, they moved to table for their little feast. Harry had asked Dobby for a favour and the little elf had been more than willing to whip up a special dinner for his 'Harry Potter Sir', his 'Missus Potter Sir' and their guests.

Ten minutes into the meal, Susan turned to Harry and quite bluntly asked, "So, Harry. Why am I here?"

Harry blinked and then smiled. "Two reasons. First, Neville here," he cocked his head at his friend, "Says you're a pretty neat person so I'd like to get to know you better. Second, I need to talk to your Aunt and figured we'd kill two birds with the same stone."

Susan nodded in approval. "Thanks for the straight answer. Why do you need to speak to Auntie?"

Harry gently set his fork and knife on his plate. Leaning back in his chair, he glanced at Gabrielle and got the answer he was expecting. After a sigh, he answered the now confused redhead.

"My godfather is Sirius Black and I need her help to clear his name."

Neville began choking on a potato while Susan regarded Harry with a stunned expression.

"You're serious?"

With a hint of amusement around the corner of his mouth, he answered, "Most definitely."

Susan glanced at Gabrielle, received an affirmative nod and then looked back at Harry. After a moments thought, she muttered, "This is a face to face conversation. She'd kill me if I put this in a letter."

Returning her attention to Harry, she asked, "What's the basic story?"

Harry told the story, all of it from Sirius' escape, (leaving out the little detail of his Animagus capability) through the blackmail of the summer. Their dinner was stone cold by the time Harry was done with his story.

"Holy shit," the plainspoken witch exclaimed when Harry was finished. Neville was shocked into silence.

"Indeed," agreed Gabrielle.

"So, you need…holy shit."

With a mischievous smile, Harry said, "I don't think we need holy shit, but I do need an honest dialogue with the Director of the MLE."

Susan frowned at Harry and gave him the bird.

She finally gathered herself together and said, "We've a Hogsmeade weekend in two weeks. I'll ask Auntie to meet us for lunch on Saturday. We do that every so often so it won't be an unusual request. She gets a room at the Three Broomsticks and we chat the day away. Catch up and whatnot.

"I'm not going to tell her about this beforehand. She'd go all 'copper' on us and come charging up here, wand-a-blazing."

Harry nodded, "If you think it's best."

"Damn, Harry. Is your life always like this?" Susan asked to general laughter.

.oOo.

"So how'd it go with Susan last night?" Hermione asked.

Gabrielle smiled, "She and Neville got on famously."

With a grin that was decidedly girlish, Hermione asked, "Do tell?"

"Later. The other part," she looked at her friend knowingly to which Hermione nodded, "We'll meet with her Aunt during the next Hogsmeade weekend."

Hermione got an expression of concentration and began muttering, "We'll need a timeline of events. Include witnesses and so forth. I should be there as I was a witness in the Shrieking Shack. If necessary we can pull in Ron, but I'd rather not…"

The bushy-haired genius didn't realize that Gabrielle had stopped talking but rather was watching her with amused respect. Gabrielle was very smart. Extremely smart if truth be told, but Hermione's mind worked at a speed and efficiency that always impressed the blond Frenchwoman.

Shaking her head, the Lady Potter caught up to her friend and together they headed off to Arithmancy.

.oOo.

It was their second Transfiguration class of the term when Draco Malfoy proved he had far more mouth than brain. In retrospect, most of the witnesses to the beat-down agreed that Malfoy was no more obscene or rude than usual. However, that was not something to recommend him in polite society. Or anywhere else for that matter.

Midway through the practical lesson of transfiguring a teapot into a tortoise, an elf popped into Transfiguration #5 and handed the Deputy Headmistress a note.

From the back of the room, Harry and Gabrielle looked up from their studies. They were currently working on mass Transfiguration of inanimate objects to animals. So far, they'd easily accomplished the Transfiguration of rubble into invertebrates, insects and reptiles but were having difficulties with mammals. Minerva had handed them a book from her personal collection before class and the couple was jointly reading it. After a quick privacy charm, they could discuss what they read without disturbing the rest of the class.

Gabrielle savoured these moments. It reminded her very much of their summer; studying on the beach with a break here and there to explore the other's anatomy. She concealed a smile at the thought.

The Potters saw McGonagall frown and then fold the note to place it in her skirt pocket. Clearing her throat, she announced, "I have an urgent duty to attend in the Headmaster's office. I'll return shortly. Continue your lesson and if I find that any of you have been messing about, you shall be cleaning this classroom from top to bottom without magic."

Silence accompanied her departure. Until the door clicked closed that is. At that point, most every student holstered their wand and began talking to their friends, the lesson forgotten.

With a collective shrug, Harry and Gabrielle returned to their studies, her leaning on him and his arm around her shoulder the only concession to the lack of teacher in the room. It took ten minutes for the whining nasally voice they hadn't heard for over four months to make its appearance.

"Potter, I still can't believe you married it. Fuck it, sure. But marry? You could have just bought one…"

The only reason young Malfoy progressed so far in his insult was that Harry had his arms around his wife. Once he disentangled himself from Gabrielle, a swift motion produced his wand pointed at the ferret.

"Wait, you can't…"

"Oh, you'll find that I can," Harry growled.

Most of the students did not realize that Harry and Gabrielle had mastered the art of non-verbal spellcasting. Since the Potters did not participate in Charms, Transfiguration or Defence, the bulk of the students hadn't seen either Potter cast a spell since the beginning week of fall term.

Therefore, it was without a verbalized incantation that Harry began The Instruction and Humiliation of An Arrogant Pureblood.

Malfoy's wand leapt out of his pocket and arched through the air toward Harry. Simultaneous to Malfoy's surprised and angry, "Hey!" the young Slytherin's outer robes vanished showing the class an extremely skinny boy with no muscle tone, wearing pink satin skin tight underwear.

"I guess it's true what they say about hand and feet size," Lavender Brown opined. "And Malfoy has the smallest feet in out year."

Using a spell he'd learned from Sirius in a letter the previous year, Harry flicked his wand upward causing Malfoy to shoot in the air by his ankle. He shrieked as he was suspended, upside down, ten feet in the air as if an invisible giant had him by the left ankle.

The boy's face was purpling and his voice growing hoarse from his caterwauling so Harry first Silenced him then released him from the levitating spell. The mute Malfoy crashed into the hard stone floor headfirst.

Harry prowled to the senseless boy. After casting a Reviving spell on young Draco, he reached down and grabbed the boy by the neck. With only his left hand, Harry dragged the Malfoy scion to his feet. Now Draco was blubbering, but Harry paid no heed. Reaching back, Harry let fly with all his weight and punched Malfoy square on the nose. He followed through so hard that the entire class heard Draco's nose snap like a dry twig. Blood spurted from his now severely damaged proboscis and his eyes instantly blackened as they began to swell shut.

Harry dropped him like the trash he was and regarded the boy for a moment before saying, "I warned you, Malfoy. This is your last opportunity to leave us alone. You did so well last term, I actually thought you'd grown up. Alas, that I was wrong." He finished in a singsong mocking tone that betrayed his true feelings quiet clearly.

Grabbing the boy on either side of his head, Harry half-hauled him to his feet. Faces inches apart, he hissed, "Next time, we duel Malfoy."

"Mr. Potter!"

"Ah, crap." McGonagall had returned.

.oOo.

Harry was sitting in a most uncomfortable chair in front of the Deputy Headmistresses desk. Next to him was Draco Malfoy, buried in Gregory Goyle's outer robes. Class had been dismissed, but Harry knew that Gabrielle and Hermione were waiting for him just outside the classroom. It didn't matter, he was sure that Professor McGonagall, the kind-hearted Scot who had been so helpful and supportive this year, was about to rip out his spleen with her left hand and then promptly feed said internal organ to him.

With fava beans.

As he sat there preparing for his doom, he was awash in self-loathing. He'd lost control again. Just like with Dumbledore in the late fall and Snape at the beginning of the year, he'd lost control and reacted inappropriately in a situation. He'd used force when force was completely unnecessary. Maybe with Snape it was, but the other two it definitely wasn't. The shameful thing was that he wasn't sure he'd want to do things differently if he had the chance.

For years, he'd been taunted, derided, belittled and cursed by Snape and Malfoy. A little payback wasn't too out of order, was it?

"Explain," the Deputy Headmistress commanded. The voice of Hera if he'd ever heard it, and Harry did hear it most every day.

Malfoy beat Harry to speaking and almost shrieked, "Potter attacked me completely without provocation, ma'am. He abused me by Vanishing my clothing and then viciously attacked me with his fists!"

With a cocked eyebrow, McGonagall murmured, "Calm yourself, Mr. Malfoy." When the Slytherin subsided, she turned to Harry and merely asked, "Well?"

"It wasn't unprovoked."

"You admit to the rest that Mr. Malfoy accuses you of performing?"

After a slight nod, Harry outlined everything that happened. He spoke in a low, flat tone that seemed to increase the insult that Malfoy hurled at Harry.

Wide eyed in fury – Minerva McGonagall was a Highland woman who knew quite a bit about honour and dignity – the Transfiguration mistress spat at the now cowering and blushing Draco Malfoy, "Is this true?"

"Well, I don't remember the details, but he attacked me!"

"One hundred points from Slytherin and a month of detention for such scandalous behaviour! Get out of my office!"

After the Ferret scurried out of the office, McGonagall wheeled on Harry like a hawk on a dodging rabbit. _Ah, crap. Here it comes._

"I am incredibly disappointed in you Mr. Potter."

Harry's head fell to his chest. Unlike his Cousin Dudley's performances, this was the real thing. One of the last people on the planet, outside his family, that he wanted to disappoint was Minerva McGonagall.

"I had thought you capable of more restraint and maturity than you've shown today. I am at a loss to convey to you accurately the depth of my feelings about your behaviour. While what he said to you was reprehensible and a most serious affront, the appropriate course should have been a formal duel, not this roughhousing in class.

Harry looked up from his feet, confused. His face must have reflected this as McGonagall's stern mien softened a touch. Not much, mind, you could still cut paper with her lips they were so thin. "Don't be a fool, Harry. You are the head of an Ancient and Noble house, married to a scion of a most Righteous and Royal house. In addition, you are the Boy-Who-Lived; you can get away with much. The law allows for an honour duel, use it to your advantage next time Mr. Malfoy acts in such a reprehensible manner.

"I realize that this year could quite possibly be your most difficult year here, even more difficult than your Second year. Given your…status…with the Headmaster, I allow certain liberties that I normally wouldn't allow." Her eyes narrowed, "Like the six dinner parties and the semi-regular visitation by Miss Granger, Mr. Longbottom and the Weasley twins to your apartments."

"However," her frostiness returned as she continued. "This act of violence is something I cannot ignore. Your 'disciplining' of Mr. Malfoy at the beginning of the year was mild and so we, the staff, let it pass without comment. Perhaps we were wrong to do so as this incident is borderline bullying."

When Harry opened his mouth to object, she hissed, "Be silent!" Panting hard with emotion, she said, "I'm most displeased with you Mr. Potter. Mr. Malfoy's comments are irrelevant. You are a better man and did not act it today. You acted like a thug. Like a teenager bullying a seven year old, you used your magical expertise against a lesser magical being."

Harry didn't know whether to laugh or cry. The idea that Malfoy was the magical equivalent of a seven year old was rather amusing – and accurate – but the overall point she was emphatically making was striking home far too easily to be comfortable. Jerkily, he nodded his understanding and agreement with her rebukes.

"One hundred points from Gryffindor and a month of detention with me."

Thoroughly humbled, he meekly answered, "Yes, ma'am."

After a long moment, she stood and put her hand on his shoulder, "I meant what I said to you earlier. You are a good man. You do know better than to act this way. It may have been very pleasing to mash on the little shit for a moment, but in the end, do you feel very satisfied?"

Completely taken aback by the vulgarity, Harry didn't answer until she prompted him with a raised eyebrow. "No, ma'am. I don't feel very satisfied. Quite the opposite, actually."

Nodding her head absently, she muttered, "Good." Turning back to her desk, she said, "You may go. I'm sure your wife and Miss Granger are waiting for you outside and are quite anxious by now. Mrs. Potter may accompany you in your detentions; we can go through quite a bit of material when we aren't distracted by the rest of the class."

Harry nodded and gave a small smile as he left the room. _Am I in trouble or did she just arrange for after hours advanced instruction?_

.oOo.

It turned out that McGonagall had been summoned because Gabrielle's plan had paid off. Auror First Class Kingsley Shacklebolt had arrived to 'supplement' Undersecretary Umbridge's teaching. In plain language, he was to teach and she would tell him how to do it.

Gabrielle found the entire situation quite amusing. If the Aurors here in Britain were anything like those in France, Shacklebolt would most likely nod sagely at everything she said and then do what he wanted, ignoring 'Old Toad-Face' all together.

He was a hit from his first class. "We are going to focus on defensive spellcasting," he began his lecture. The deep bass of his voice seemed to rumble and shake the classroom.

"But that leads to this question that I pose to you: What is a defensive spell?"

Hermione's hand shot in the air and after a nod from Shacklebolt, she answered, "The Basic Shield spell, incantation Protego, is a defensive spell."

Kingsley pursed his lips and slowly wagged his head back and forth. "Hmm. Anyone else?"

Hannah Abbott suggested a conjured barrier, which caused Kingsley to raise his eyebrows in appreciation. Ernie Macmillan answered with the Disarming charm. This provoked a miniscule smile and another prolonged, "Hmm," from the new professor.

That clue spurred Gabrielle to raise her hand. When he called on her she answered, "The Bone Breaking hex, incantation Ossio Fractum."

While most of the students regarded Gabrielle with horror, there was now a distinct smile on the new professor's face. "Please explain your answer Mrs. Potter." Shacklebolt moved to sit on the edge of his desk and then added, "For the record everyone, Mrs. Potter's answer is correct, as were everyone else's."

"If I am forced to defend myself or someone else, my opponent may be under the influence of mind altering or body altering potions. Therefore, they may be able to overcome basic disabling spells such as the Stunning spell. As such, a spell such as the Bone Breaking hex will most likely completely incapacitate an attacker, thus using it as a defensive spell."

The previously horrified expressions of the other students melted into thoughtfulness.

With a wide smile, Professor Shacklebolt declared, "Excellent, Mrs. Potter. Take ten points for Gryffindor. So…"

The new Defence professor was an instant success. Gabrielle had the Weasley twins spread the word for the students to suck up to Umbridge when they saw her. Her goal was to ensure the woman would stay away from the classroom at all costs and if a little dishonest flattery did the trick, so be it.

Neville passed to Harry and Gabrielle that they were on track for a discussion with Amelia Bones. Apparently, he and Susan had taken a long walk on the grounds the day before.

"But wasn't it bitterly cold yesterday?" Fred asked.

Neville's response caused Fred to gape and then roll with laughter. With a rather self-satisfied smile, he gathered up his books and said, "Warming charms my good man."

.oOo.

Their current journey to Hogsmeade was rather different from their last. Before, the Potters had been light of heart, kissing and playing the entire way. True, Fleur had been waiting to discuss a topic that was very serious, but in their hearts they had been gay.

Today was much different. Harry was incredibly nervous. Gabrielle had done her best to sooth her husband, helping quite a bit if truth be told, but his nerves were a bit of a jangle. Upon leaving the castle doors and muffling themselves against the wind, she wrapped her arm through his and leaned into him. She knew he'd focus on her needs over his own, thereby taking his mind off the impending meeting with Amelia Bones. There was a touch of guilt as she realized that she was using his nobility to trick him. _To distract him_, she corrected herself.

Susan, Neville and Hermione trailed the Potters on the path to the village. Neville was very interested in dating Susan, or so he told Harry, but he still lacked confidence; hence, Hermione's presence with them. He'd mustered the courage for a short walk the day before, but he needed Hermione's help to start the day. Susan was surprisingly accepting of the situation. In the end, she was as nervous as he. The muggleborn witch provided an emotional buffer for the aspiring couple so they could be more comfortable together. Hermione walked a few steps to the left of Neville while Susan was on his right.

Gabrielle felt bad for Hermione. Over the course of many conversations, it became evident to Gabrielle that at one point, Hermione fancied Ron Weasley somewhat. That interest died a gruesome death upon the redheaded boy's repudiation of Harry following the Boy-Who-Lived's selection as the fourth champion. Since then, no one else seemed to catch Hermione's eye. Trying to be open minded, she wondered if Harry and Hermione would have been a couple if not for meeting Gabrielle. Shaking off the thought as irrelevant, she began to put her mind to matching Hermione with a boy.

He had to be strong willed, that was for sure. Hermione could be a force of nature when she was on a roll. Obviously, he had to be intelligent. Not necessarily staggeringly smart like Hermione, but smart enough. Someone on par with Harry or even Neville. With a small smile, Gabrielle added good looking to the list and began to ponder her acquaintances here in Britain, as well as, at home in France.

A titter of laughter from behind caught Gabrielle's attention. She glanced back and saw her three friends laughing at something Susan had said. Squeezing Harry's arm tight, she looked up at her man and smiled at him, causing him to beam at her in return.

With a strange hopeful dread, Harry led the group as they walked between the winged boars of Hogwarts front gates and turned down the lane to Hogsmeade.

.oOo.

Harry held the door open for the group. Following them in, he saw Susan leading the way to the stairs up to the private rooms. Neville had the redheaded Hufflepuff's cloak and set up at a booth just at the bottom of the stairs. Harry gave his friend a nod as he passed. In return, Neville whispered, "Good luck, mate," as he pulled out a few books from his bag. He planned on doing a bit of homework while the others were upstairs.

Harry was following his wife up the stairs and couldn't pass up the opportunity to admire her shapely derriere. He laughed at himself as they reached the top of the stairs, he'd probably have to do something about his admiration tonight.

Settling down, he saw Susan reach up and rap on the door marked with a large '4'. A sharp voice barked out, "Come!"

Harry followed Susan, Hermione and Gabrielle into the room. As he shut the door, he saw an older woman who could only be Amelia Bones regarding the group with mild surprise.

When Amelia caught sight of Harry, she furrowed her brow. "Hello, Susan and friends," she greeted in a low voice.

"Auntie, Harry came to me with a problem and he needs your help." Amelia gave her niece a sharp look. Susan must have been familiar with it as she nodded in return and answered the unspoken question, "He's been very straightforward and honest with me."

A slight frown crossed the Director of Magical Law Enforcement's brow. "Well then, let's all be comfortable and have a discussion, shall we?"

Harry held out a chair for Gabrielle while Susan and Hermione took their seats. Reaching into his cloak pocket, he withdrew a small object. A quick Finishing spell later and a medium sized pensieve stood on the table.

By now, Amelia Bones' eyebrows threatened to take up permanent residence in her hairline. "Any more surprises, my Lord?"

With a grin worthy of a scion of the Marauders, he replied, "We considered brewing Veritaserum, but it took too long."

Bones gave a half smile and snorted. She started to reach for her purse, stopped and then asked Susan, "Will I need to take notes?"

With a wry grin, the redhead answered, "I believe so."

When everyone was settled, quills sharpened, drinks opened and snacks on the table, Amelia nodded to Harry and said, "Whenever you're ready."

After a deep cleansing breath, Harry began. "Sirius Black is my godfather. He's innocent and I need your help to prove it."

It was almost, but not really, humorous. Amelia merely cocked a sardonic eyebrow and responded, "Do tell."

So he did. With clarifications from Hermione on points which he was a bit fuzzy, he explained all that transpired while his family was in hiding during 1981, Harry's third year and the blackmail since.

Three hours, twelve butterbeers, six bowls of pub mix, a platter of sandwiches and, at the end, a shot of Firewhiskey for Amelia, they were done.

"Goddamn," Amelia muttered.

Gabrielle exchanged a puzzled glance with her husband and then Susan. "Pardon, Director, but what is the problem?"

Fixing Gabrielle with a mildly beady eye, Amelia answered, "What the problem is, Lady Potter, is that I've got the dimmest man I've ever known as the Minister of Magic who is doing his damndest to avoid any and all real issues. I've also got the most destructive and powerful Dark Wizard in a millennia playing old harry on the populace and now you bring me a situation that in good conscience I _must_ attend to and I don't have the bloody time or people! That's what the problem is."

Amelia passed her hands over her face and then shook her head resignedly. In a much calmer tone, she apologized. "I'm sorry Lady Potter my response was unwarranted and quite rude. The past few months have been very…trying…and it's made me short tempered. That doesn't make it acceptable for me to be rude to you and I'm sorry for it."

"I completely understand, Director. Think nothing of it."

Amelia nodded at the blonde before turning to the only male in the room. Harry flashed a grin at the woman, which caused her to laugh. "What now?"

Harry's grin blossomed into a smile. "Not much, just trying a bit of levity." His grin faded a watt or two before he continued in a serious tone. "I do realize that you are under considerable pressures and this is adding more steam to the kettle. I truly am sorry. I just couldn't put up with the blackmail and Sirius' tenuous position any longer."

Amelia waved it off, "As your wife said, 'think nothing of it', my Lord. This is my job and what I've been doing all my adult life. Since Dumbledore is involved, it makes this much more sensitive than a normal case. I'll be handling this personally with Connie Hammer, my special investigator. She's completely trustworthy and been with me for the last thirty years."

Harry nodded, paused and then asked, "This may seem odd, but can I help?"

When the Director regarded Harry with an amusedly curious expression he elaborated, "I am the Boy-Who-Lived after all. Some people actually care what I say."

Nodding her head, she acknowledged the point. After a moment's consideration, she answered, "Get me a Minister who isn't a mental deficient. That's what I need."

Harry and Gabrielle traded smiles, "Funny you should mention that…"

.oOo.

Valentine's Day came and went. Harry and Gabrielle spent the fourteenth at the seat of the Potters, Rowan Hill. They explored the grounds, took a short walk on the shingle beach of Cardigan Bay and, of course, made love in the master bedroom.

There was no one else in the massive mansion and it was a bit spooky for the couple. In the end, they left their future home sad that they couldn't stay.

The next weekend was Gryffindor versus Hufflepuff and no one expected the Badgers to beat the Lions. After their humiliation of Slytherin in their first match, Gryffindor became the heavy favourite to sweep the Quidditch season and stroll away with the Cup.

The final score was much closer than the Slytherin match had been: 475-270. The Hufflepuff chasers were a seamless dynamo of three fourth years that had many in the stands wondering if they were watching the future of Hogwarts Quidditch. After all, three of the starting seven players for Gryffindor were graduating this year with no clear-cut successors at this point.

Harry was just shaking hands with the Hufflepuff seeker when delicate arms wrapped around him from behind. He smiled widely at Amanda Rooker, his opposition from the house of the loyal, and muttered, "Excuse me; a matter of the utmost importance has just grabbed my attention."

Amanda smiled, blushed and laughed as she nodded and moved away. Harry spun in his wife's arms and kissed her deeply. They broke their passionate embrace after many catcalls and whistles.

The team was surrounded by a host of scarlet and gold clad Gryffindors who were all shouting and clapping Harry and Gabi on the back. Harry wrapped his arm around his wife and, smiling to the crowd, tried to worm through them to the dressing rooms.

A strong hand grabbed his arm, getting his attention. Looking to his left, Harry saw Oliver Wood grinning like a madman. Apparently, the former team captain was attending all the matches of his alma mater.

"Harry, this is Bill Darcy with _Quidditch Illustrated_," he indicated a tall, dark haired man. "He wants to talk with you."

Flattered, Harry responded, "Sure. Now?"

"If it's possible, Harry," the reporter answered.

"Sure, let's get out of this madhouse."

Five minutes later, the four of them were settled in the stands. A quick round of Warming charms and Darcy began.

"Harry, you're the most successful seeker in recent Hogwarts history: Youngest seeker since 1874, only missed one snitch for a reason that in the professional league would have invalidated the match and your play has only improved. Looking through the stands today, I saw no less than seven scouts who were taking quite a few notes plus omniocular recordings. Have you considered playing Quidditch professionally?"

"Well," he smiled abashedly, "what you say is very flattering. I suppose I've dreamed about playing professionally as anyone else does. Seriously considered it, though? Not really. I've never really thought I was good enough."

Darcy regarded him with shock. Finally, he muttered, "Oh, you're good enough. Trust me on that one."

Shaking off his surprise, Darcy followed up, "Your former team captain, Oliver Wood here is playing for Puddlemere United. Would that be a consideration on where you sign?"

Harry laughed, "Any team with Oliver is going to be competitive. I would love to play with him again. I do think you're overlooking something, though."

"What's that?"

"The rest of my team is brilliant. The Weasley twins are the best beaters in Hogwarts. Our chaser line dominates other teams, even the excellent Hufflepuff line that we played today. Our new keeper is no slouch, either. Not in Oliver's league, but still quite good."

"Yes, I noticed that. The beaters are quite good and I believe they attracted some notice. The Johnson and Bell girls are big enough to play professionally, but I think the Spinnet girl is too small. She'd get pushed around too much in the scrum."

Harry shrugged, "I think they're fantastic. I'd play any day, any time with our team. I'm also willing to wager that with Oliver keeping, we could beat most any team."

Wide eyed in surprise, Darcy retorted, "Even professional teams?"

After a moment's consideration, Harry met Oliver's proud, challenging gaze and nodded. "Aye, even professional teams."

The reporter raised his eyebrows and scribbled a note on his pad. They discussed a few more points, even Harry's relationship with Viktor Krum. "He's an excellent Seeker and really nice man. We got to know each other last year during the tournament and became friends. We had hoped to get together last summer but our schedules were too busy."

"Anything else to add, Harry?"

Harry pursed his lips and traded a look with Gabrielle. She gave her eloquent shrug so he said, "Yes, one more thing."

"With the return of Lord Voldemort last summer," he paused while Darcy let out an 'eep!', "I would encourage all your readers to be safe. Travel in groups, erect wards on your home if you can. Most importantly, be safe."

Darcy scribbled a few more notes and then said, "Thank you very much, Harry. I really appreciate you taking this time. I meant to ask, but you," he turned to Gabrielle, "must be the beautiful Mrs. Potter?"

Gabrielle inclined her head, "Gabrielle Potter. I'm pleased to meet you Monsieur Darcy."

"The pleasure is entirely mine, Madame. Is there anything you'd like to add to our discussion?"

Gabrielle smiled pleasantly, declined and then gently grasped his extended hand for a farewell. In what he meant as his most suave and debonair manners, Darcy turned Gabrielle's hand and mashed his lips against her knuckles. Harry blinked while Oliver watched, aghast.

Gabrielle didn't even flinch, but smiled politely at the man who beamed at the Potters in return before making his way to the gates.

As Gabrielle discreetly wiped her hand on her cloak, Harry turned to Oliver, eyebrows raised in the unspoken question.

"Harry," he began, "You don't realize it but you're good enough to play in the league. I thought I'd get you a bit of exposure to help beat the drum a bit for you as a seeker and not just the Boy-Who-Lived."

Harry nodded at the logic, paused and then asked, "How much?" As in, 'How much did they pay you for the introduction'.

Oliver laughed, "A hundred galleons."

Harry and Gabrielle both laughed in return. "Good to see you, mate. I need a shower. Will you be at the next match?"

"Maybe. We've a match against the Catapults the day before. Our seeker isn't worth a pile of shit though…er sorry," he mumbled at the end to Gabrielle.

She waved it off so Oliver continued, "If the match ends in enough time, I'll be here."

Harry nodded and then asked, "Hey, give me your Floo address and for the next Hogsmeade weekend, we'll get the team together for a blow out."

Oliver headed off with assurances of meeting up as the Potters moved up to the castle.

"Would you like to play Quidditch professionally?"

"I don't know. I mean on the surface it seems like a dream career, but what would that mean to us? That's a lot of time on the road."

She rolled her eyes at him and rejoined, "I would go with you, silly. We would simply delay children until you are done with your career. Neither of us _needs _to work, so I could just travel with the team and shop whilst you play your game." She laughed delightedly as he mock flinched at her description. "Quidditch careers usually aren't more than ten years, so you'd be done by the time you're thirty."

He was silent the rest of the way up to their rooms. When he came out of the shower, still towelling his wet hair, he picked up the conversation as if she'd just made her last statement.

"Could you put up with the press and all that?"

She nodded, "I'd have to put up with them just being the wife of the Boy-Who-Lived and Man-Who-Is-Going-To-Win-Someday." He laughed at her invention. She shrugged, "I thought about this last year when we started dating."

Suddenly, she became very serious, "Harry, my love. I would do anything for you. Anything."

Taken aback by the implications her declaration, he dumbly nodded then took her in his arms. "God, I love you," he murmured into her hair.

"And I love you, mon cher."

.oOo.

"Fred, George, come on over here."

Harry and Gabrielle were sitting at the Gryffindor table in the Great Hall, waiting for lunch to be served.

As the dynamic duo sat across from them, lunch appeared on the table. Conversation paused throughout the massive hall as hundreds of hands simultaneously reached for food. When sandwiches had been scooped up and milk and pumpkin juice poured, Harry continued his thread.

"Lads, I had a bit of chat with Bill Darcy after the match."

"The guy from _Quidditch Illustrated_?"

Harry nodded as he chewed. "He mentioned quite a bit, but apparently there were a bunch of scouts at the match and you two attracted serious attention."

Both boys stopped loading their plates as the shock overtook them. Finally, George found his voice, "Really?"

"Yeah."

The brothers looked at each other in amazement. "Wow."

"Thought I'd pass it along for you two to consider. With this being your last year here and all."

Fred took a bite of his sandwich and chewed thoughtfully. Eventually, he said in a low tone, "We've been working toward starting up a joke shop of our own. Like Zonko's, you know? But this? This is huge."

"Yeah, that was my response, too."

Now the twins laughed at Harry's response as Gabrielle rolled her eyes at him. They waved to Hermione as she joined the group and then George pounced. "Harry, you must be an idiot to think you couldn't play professionally."

Harry regarded the twins sceptically.

Fred waved a hand dismissively at Harry and addressed Gabrielle, "I'll speak to the management of the Potter family. I wonder what you think about this development."

Gabrielle swallowed her milk and then answered, "I'm all for it. It won't be forever and he'll be happy doing it."

"And you like watching his bum in Quidditch pants," Fred teased.

Gabrielle just smiled wickedly.

"Anyway," Harry broke in. "Moving the discussion away from my bum, what do you guys think of this idea?"

"Playing Quidditch professionally?" asked Fred.

"No you moron, the itch that Ronniekins has developed between his toes!" George said as he smacked his twin on the back of the head.

Calming, George answered Harry, "It would help us to finance the shop and as your beautiful bride mentions, it would be a bit of fun."

Hermione had been split on Harry's contemplation of Quidditch as a career. She knew he loved the sport, but at the same time knew he could be so much more than be an athlete. He could really help people.

Before she could put forward her opinion, Gabrielle offered the twins a different solution. "What if we finance your shop so as to start up right away. If you sign with a team, we'll increase our initial investment so that you can hire people for making your product and such while you're time is taken up with Quidditch. Consider us silent partners."

All joking forgotten, Fred looked at Gabrielle and then Harry. "Really?"

"Definitely. Consider it an investment on our part," Harry answered.

His voice clogged with emotion, George asked, "Can we have a few days to consider? This is a bit much to take in over ham and swiss on rye."

Harry chuckled, nodded and then took another bite of his sandwich. "Let me know. I'll have our solicitors draw up the paperwork. If you'd like to engage another firm to check it over, I won't be offended or you can use our firm. Either way, I figure two or three days after you give me a number, you'll have the money in your vault."

With complete sincerity, Fred said, "Thank you, guys. I can't tell you what this means to us."

Hermione smiled to herself. Maybe a Quidditch career didn't preclude Harry and Gabrielle from helping people after all.

.oOo.

"You know that Umbridge isn't going to be satisfied with your mealy mouthed comment?"

Harry shrugged at Hermione's statement. He and Gabrielle had talked long about the issue. After their discussion with Amelia Bones, they had written a long letter to Henri outlining their ideas, proposals and counterproposals. He agreed with their logic and offered a few small, and a few not so small, bits of advice.

Amelia had been very receptive of an advance in her position. At the same time, she was wary of becoming beholden to anyone. Harry had rapidly tried to reassure her that he would not try and fill the role that Lucius Malfoy held over Fudge.

That seemed to relieve the career law enforcement officer who then began to interrogate Harry on his desires and goals for government.

"I'd like a fair government that treats magical beings equally."

She'd looked at him for a long moment and then began to laugh. "You're serious?" When he gave a tight nod, she calmed quickly and continued, "I'm sorry my Lord, but with the Wizengamot as it is, there is such little chance to repeal the werewolf regulatory laws, pass laws recognizing Centaurs as a separate nation, granting the Goblins better status and so on. I laugh only because it's an impossible situation."

"So that means we ought not to try?" he'd asked coldly.

Gabrielle had squeezed his thigh under the table. The needed Amelia Bones to help them get out from underneath Dumbledore's thumb and it wouldn't do to antagonize her before they got started.

All humour fell off her face and she'd regarded him closely. "Quite. I think we should discuss this later, my Lord, I'm sure that you have some very interesting opinions and positions that I haven't considered."

A little shamefacedly, Harry'd nodded and in a peace overture admitted, "Yet, I am sure that your superior knowledge and experience trumps my uninformed opinion on most days."

Accepting the statement for what it was, Bones had shrugged and extended her hand. "My Lord, it's been a very interesting day. Either Ms. Hammer or I will be in contact with you soon regarding Lord Black. We'll most likely send correspondence through Susan so as not to be noticed."

That day, Harry and Gabrielle had thrown in with Amelia Bones. Now they had to keep Dolores Umbridge at bay until she became a non-issue.

"Speak of the devil," Harry muttered under his breath.

Marching down the middle of the hallway with a set expression of anger upon her face was Dolores Umbridge. Her pink argyle robes were flapping as she duck-waddled quickly toward Harry, Gabrielle and Hermione.

When she got five feet away, her face underwent an amazing transformation. The stern, unyielding expression twitched a few times and then slowly, oh so slowly, bent into her usual expression of sugary sweetness. In her left hand was the latest _Quidditch Illustrated_.

"My Lord, might I have a moment of your time?"

"Actually, Professor, we've Charms class in…"

Grabbing Harry by the arm, Umbridge propelled Harry into an empty classroom, slamming the door behind them, all the while saying, "Good. Now I'd like to discuss this," she held up the magazine briefly. "I'm sure," her expression hardened for a long moment, "that I'm misreading what the reporter transcribed. There is no show of public support for our Minister in this article, my Lord." She was almost ranting at the end and panting in her emotion.

Harry was becoming alarmed. The more the woman spoke the easier it was to see how unhinged she truly was. Taking a few steps back, he held up his hands in a 'hold on' gesture. "Professor, I've not had a chance to read the article, so I'm not sure what Mr. Darcy reported that I said."

Wordlessly, the magazine was thrust in his hands. As he read the article, which was remarkably well done, Umbridge became preternaturally still. She distinctly reminded Harry of a snake waiting for its prey.

Harry turned back to the cover, which had a close-up shot of Harry and Gabrielle's passionate kiss at the end of the Hufflepuff match. "I'm afraid that Mr. Darcy has edited out the full extent of my comments," he lied.

Umbridge's face turned red and she looked like she wanted to scream. Visibly recollecting herself, she took some deep breaths as a thin line of spittle began to overflow her lower lip. Narrowing her beady eyes, the Undersecretary said, "Well. I shall have to assist you by procuring a more reputable reporter. One who will tell the full story." Her eyes flashed and then she inclined her head and spat, "You may keep that rag. Good day, my Lord."

Umbridge slammed the door open and stalked down the hall. The tension bled out of Harry like a ruptured damn. He sagged on the desk he'd been backed up against during Umbridge's rant. Gabrielle and Hermione rushed in the room and simultaneously asked, "Are you alright?"

He nodded silently before pulling Gabrielle close. "She's mad," he whispered.

.oOo.

It was two weeks later that Harry, Gabrielle, Hermione, Neville and Susan were working on an Herbology assignment when they heard the dreaded, "Hem-hem."

Looking up, they saw Undersecretary Umbridge standing there. The woman was smiling so smugly, Harry was sure that she was the personification of the cat that ate the canary. Or maybe the toad that ate the fly was more appropriate.

Her expression was at odds with her looks. Her perpetually pink robes were a mass of wrinkles and creases; it was obvious she'd been sleeping in them. Dark circles highlighted her muddy eyes and her usually coiffed hair was flyaway. Altogether, her madness was seeping through her long won façade. Never an attractive woman to start with, her looks were suffering as a result of her stress.

"My Lord, I've prevailed upon the Daily Prophet to provide a reliable reporter for your interview." Her eyes narrowed as she licked her lips in a darting fashion. Gabrielle couldn't help but recoil from the reptilian grin that made a brief appearance on the unbalanced witch's face.

Harry stared at her then responded, "Ah," oh so eloquently.

Gabrielle rolled her eyes at her husband's antics. Thinking quickly, she interjected, "Thank you so much, Madame. Will you let us know the day and time? I think, since this is my husband's first real interview, this reporter should provide his or her questions beforehand. We don't want to make any errors due to a lack of preparedness." Adopting the most simpering expression she could manage, Gabrielle forced herself to say, "I'm sure you wouldn't need that level of preparation, but my husband is inexperienced…"

Umbridge's face spasmed and then stilled. With short panting breaths, she grated out, "Of course, my Lady. I'll ensure that Mr. Ferrick owls you the questions as soon as possible. Expect him one evening next week." There was a long pause as she stared at Harry like a predator at its prey. "I'll be there as well, have no fear."

Without hesitation, Gabrielle smiled and responded, "Of course and welcome you shall be."

A frustrated, confused look passed over Umbridge's appearance. She seemed to struggle with herself for a heartbeat before nodding. The former Defence professor turned on her heel and left the library as fast as her squat, thick legs would propel her.

.oOo.

"My Lord, you and your good lady have two visitors."

Harry looked up from _The Dueling Masters Guide_ and asked, "Who is it my Lord Zeus?"

"The twins Weasley, my Lord."

Nodding he directed, "Please, let them in my Lord." Placing a scrap of parchment in his book he set it on the side table and called, "Tobby."

The house elf popped in and then out with orders for snacks and tea.

"Hey fellas," he greeted when the door swung open.

Fred waved his greeting and George greeted Harry with a muted, "Hey."

Somewhat concerned, Harry asked, "Is everything Ok? You two are pretty serious."

The twins exchanged a glance and George answered, "We wanted to talk about our shop."

Harry nodded and asked, "Tea?" They nodded so he poured three cups. Handing them over and indicating the milk and sugar on the low table, Harry took his chair and waited.

Strangely, George took his tea unadorned but Fred added a healthy dollup of milk and two sugars. _I thought they did everything the same_.

"We've been thinking and talking about your offer."

At this point the door opened and Gabi returned from the library, three books in her arms. Harry hastened to help her with her load and then poured for her; no milk and a light sugar for her tea.

When the Potters were resettled, George began again, "I had just told Harry that Fred and I've been discussing your offer and would like to take you up on it.

"Regardless of our Quidditch prospects, we'll need start up cash and I'd rather have you two as investors than owe a loan to the Goblins." Fred nodded in agreement with his brother's statements.

"Have you thought about how much you'll need?"

Fred pulled a parchment out of his pocket. Laying it flat on the table, the foursome leaned over. Pointing to a row of numbers, he explained, "If we don't play Quidditch, we've figured our initial outlay for premises, stocking on potion supplies, raw materiel and general shop supplies to add up to G675."

Harry leaned back and rubbed his chin scaring the hell out of the twins. When he noticed their stricken expressions he smiled and reassured them, "I'm not worried about the number being too high, guys. I just worry that it may be too low. I remember Uncle Vernon always going on about 'this unexpected expense' or 'those bastard suppliers sticking it to him' and other such things. Let's make that number G1000, Ok?"

Fred rolled his eyes and mimicked "Let's make it G1000. Harry that's a lot of coin."

Now Harry rolled his eyes and retorted, "Remind me to invite you guys to our home this summer. Moving on, what about if you play?"

Fred indicated the other row of numbers, which totalled G1250. Harry promptly rounded that number up to G2000. "So I'll have G1000 transferred right away so you can begin purchasing and whatnot. If you do sign after the Ravenclaw match, I'll transfer another thousand."

The twins were smiling and shaking their heads. Apparently, the Weasley pride manifested itself in their disbelief that Harry and Gabrielle would actually invest in their idea.

George restarted the discussion, "We've talked about what percentage of the firm you two would own and haven't come to a decision."

Gabrielle spoke up for the first time and asked, "What would the overall value of the shop be at start up?"

The twins had a 'deer in the headlights' expression, which caused the Potters to chuckle. "Use the amount we invest and divide it by the value of the firm and that will be our share."

Harry shook his head and offered, "Guys, let's have the solicitors figure this part out."

"Good idea, Harry."

They chatted for a bit before the twins stood to leave. George teared up a bit and embraced Harry. "Thank you, Harry. This is our dream." Fred was sniffling suspiciously behind him.

Harry clapped his friend on the back a few times before they released each other.

"I'd give you a hug too, Gabrielle, but I think he'd kill me," Fred joked.

"Oh, pish. Come here," she said and embraced the brothers.

After the twins left with buoyed spirits, Harry took Gabrielle in his arms. "My life is so good because of you. I'd be lost without you."

She pulled back wearing a small smile. "You'd still have done this, my love. It's the kind of man that you are. It may have been a bit different, but have no doubt, you are the most decent, honest, good person I've ever known."

.oOo.

The Undersecretary's promised owl arrived three days later. Harry scanned the letter before he scowled and threw the note on the table. Frowning at his reaction, Gabrielle reached for the letter. Very quickly, Lady Potter had a scowl to match Lord Potter.

The letter was two pages long and had over one hundred questions; most of them either ludicrously personal or ludicrously biased. "They cannot be serious with this list," she growled.

He shook his head in disbelief and mute acceptance of the situation. Angry, Gabrielle marched over to him, grabbed his chin and rebuked him. "You are Lord Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived; a bona fide celebrity. Use that in your favour. You do not need to answer all these questions." Gesturing at the letter on their table, she spat, "That is madness."

"Do I write a letter and protest the list?"

She sat there silent for a bit before answering his question with one of her own. "Do you think he'd tell Umbridge?"

"Point. So just dodge and dissemble during the interview?"

She shrugged. "I can't think of a better way. Can you?"

Shaking his head, he answered, "Not right now."

He paused, thinking. "I don't like this. It's like dancing with a cobra. I feel like one false move and she'll come unglued." He waved his hand in a dismissing motion, "It's not as if I'm afraid she'll beat me in a duel. Hell, I could probably fight off Snape now. Her madness is what is scary. I can't predict what she'll do when she realizes we're stringing her along."

Gabrielle had nothing to say. There was nothing to say.

Harry gave a half laugh and muttered, "Constant Vigilance it is then."

.oOo.

The evening of the following Monday, Mr. Ferrick of the _Daily Prophet_ arrived. He was the 'beat reporter' that covered the Ministry doings for the newspaper. This told the Potters, in large capital neon letters, that Umbridge held sway over the man.

He looked like he should smell. Dirty clothes, a damp brow, long lank hair coupled with obvious dirt stains under his fingernails betrayed his slovenliness. Harry gave the man a quick handshake while Gabrielle merely nodded and smiled.

The photographer, Joey Rathburn, took a dozen or so pictures of the Potters together and solo before excusing himself. Ferrick grunted his greeting and then took a seat. Harry and Gabrielle looked at each other, shrugged and then sat opposite the disgusting man. Gabi crossed her legs while Harry hooked his left ankle on his knee as they watched Ferrick rummage in his stained bag. Eventually, the man set up a dictation quill on a long roll of parchment.

"So, Harry. Why'd ya marry this particular bint?"

A tightening around Gabrielle's eyes was the only betrayal of her feelings. Harry's feelings were much more plain to see. Standing over the grossly offensive man, he hissed, "You will address me as 'My Lord' and my wife as 'My Lady'. You will also apologize for your abhominably offensive question or I shall challenge you to a duel right now."

When Ferrick merely stared at Harry for a long moment, Harry reiterated, "Now."

The mumbled, bumbling apology merely took the edge off Harry's anger. As Harry retook his seat, he saw Umbridge out of the corner of his eye. She was glaring at both Harry and Ferrick. Evidently, the interview was not proceeding as she desired. "Hem-Hem," she said in her sugary sweet voice. Her eyes widened at Ferrick and she nodded her head to Harry, telling the reporter in no uncertain terms to 'Get on with it'.

Somewhat cowed, Ferrick licked his lips before tugging at his sweat-stained collar. "My Lord," he began uncertainly. "Our readers are very curious as to your views regarding You-Know-Who and his resurrection."

Harry stared at the man for a long moment before giving in. "I'm not sure what your question is."

"Ah. Well, what do you think should be done with anyone caught and accused of supporting He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Harry nodded; it was actually a good question. "Veritaserum questioning with specific questions addressing the individual's loyalties and criminal activities. That way we all know if the person was really under the Imperius curse or not."

Harry made a vague hand gesture and continued, "Far too many people claimed the Imperius defence after my parents were killed. The use of Veritaserum would ensure that there was no doubt regarding who truly supported Lord Voldemort and who was an unfortunate victim of an Unforgivable curse."

It was very obvious who Harry was referring to by implication: Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle, Macnair, Nott et al. Ferrick watched the dictation quill copy Harry's statement, but in the background, Umbridge was purpling quickly. Her breath was coming in short little gasps, as she seemed to be on the verge of bursting. Finally, the torrent couldn't be contained any longer. "But those were all upstanding men of society! Well bred and right of thought! It would besmirch their honour to be subjected to a truth serum like a common hoodlum!"

Gabrielle stroked Harry's hand to help him keep his temper. He half nodded to his blonde mate before offering Umbridge a half shrug. Hoping to defuse the situation, he gave no reply.

Thoroughly riled, but maintaining a semblance of control, Umbridge shook her head in silent indignation as Ferrick continued. "So, to follow up on the previous question, what is your estimation of the Ministry's efforts to subdue and eradicate the terrorist…er, well, You-Know-Who."

_And now he's in dangerous waters so early in the interview._ Gabrielle glanced at Umbridge and saw the woman leaning forward, her eyes bright

Harry glanced at Gabrielle and then over to Umbridge. The Undersecretary had stilled again, watching the interview with predatory gleam in her eye. A slight twitch of her left eye gave away her excitement at finally being able to accomplish her goal: public endorsement of Fudge by the Boy-Who-Lived.

"Well," Harry temporized, "that's a very complex question." Inside him a scream was building; _Fudge is a fool! We're all going to die if he stays in charge!_ "I think…"

The door of the empty classroom was thrown open by a fearful Joey Rathburn. "Ferrick! Diagon Alley is under attack! Let's go!" Stuffing the dictation quill and parchment in his bag, Ferrick ran out of the room without a backward glance.

Stifling a sigh of relief, Gabrielle turned to see Umbridge's face mottled with anger. "Madame," Gabrielle began in a most soothing tone, "Someone of your position and status would be able to calm the situation most admirably, I think."

"You mean the Alley?"

Gabrielle nodded in response.

Umbridge pursed her cracked lips. With an effort, she heaved her squat bulk from her chair. Narrowing her eyes at Harry, her appearance became openly hostile for the first time. "I'm sure we can continue this interview at a later date?"

Before Harry's mumbled answer was heard, she'd waddled as fast as she could out the door for the Floo connection in her office.

.oOo.

The attack had been the resumption of activities by Lord Voldemort. The Death Eater raids on magical and mundane targets had dwindled starting in the fall. By the New Year, there had been no attacks in over a month and the more optimistic (others described them as idiots) members of the Wizengamot opined that the cessation of attacks heralded the end of the Death Eaters.

Some felt that the resurrection ritual used by He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named must have gone wrong and the man had died for good. Others offered that due to the Ministry's efforts, the Death Eaters had voluntarily disbanded due to low morale. That last one made Harry laugh aloud over his breakfast.

The vicious attack in Diagon Alley that early spring day put paid to the foolish speculations. Voldemort himself led the raid, which resulted in seventeen people killed, another fifty wounded and burned out eight businesses including Slug and Jiggers, the largest apothecary shop in Britain.

.oOo.

For the two weeks following the attack in the Alley, Harry had noticed that Snape had been staring at him in Potions class. He never said anything to the Boy-Who-Lived, but his dead eyes stared without blinking; boring into Harry's awareness without remorse.

It was somewhat unnerving and he told Gabrielle this one evening over dinner. "It's pretty creepy to tell the truth. We've already met our quota of psychotic teachers with Umbridge; I don't want to be spoiled by adding Snape on top of that."

Therefore, a somewhat wary Harry and Gabrielle were in their Potions class working on Tessenbaum's General Anti-Venin. With no warning, Snape finally broke his long silence.

"Potter! Fifty points for disrupting the class!"

Harry blinked and looked at his wife. Neither had said a word in class for months and at the time of their 'disruption', both had been counting their stirs as they rotated their glass stirring rods in their cauldrons for the assignment. In fact, all the other students looked at each other quizzically, even the Slytherin students.

Gabrielle's nostrils flared in anger but she controlled herself and gave her husband a miniscule shake of her head. Harry half-lidded his eyes in response. Neither of them retorted to the now frothing Potion Master.

Snape stood at the head of the class, working the muscle in his jaw, clenching and unclenching his teeth. Twitching occasionally, it was evident the man was exerting all his will to stay in control of himself.

Cautiously, Harry and Gabrielle finished their potions as fast as they could and immediately packed their bags awaiting the end of class. Harry surreptitiously watched Snape the entire time, while Gabrielle kept an eye on the Slytherin students in the class. She was mindful of her father's remonstrance about Snape co-opting students to act for him.

After what felt like an eon to Harry and Gabrielle, the class ended. They shot out the door and up the first set of stairs before anyone else had even left their seats. Breathing hard with emotion, they stopped in the Entrance Hall to gather their wits.

"That was disturbing," Gabrielle murmured.

"Most definitely," he responded. Taking her hand in his, he led her out the doors into the spring morning. There was a slight chill in the air, but the sun was warm as they sat on a bench right outside the castle doors.

They were mostly settled from the disconcerting experience when Hermione found them. Sitting next to Gabrielle, she asked, "What was that all about?"

Both Potters widened their eyes and shook their heads. "I've no idea whatsoever," Gabi answered.

The girls began chatting and Harry watched with a happy, contented feeling. He was very glad that Hermione and Gabrielle had become such good friends. There were many times when Hermione came to their rooms looking for the female Potter rather than the male.

As had happened many times throughout the year, Harry was deluged in powerful emotion. He stifled a sniffle as gratitude, appreciation and, most of all, love washed over him in gentle waves. His very soul was caressed and held close in this wellspring of affection and caring. The broad smile on his face as he lifted his visage to the sun had nothing to do with the warm sun, but everything to do with the sunshine of his life.

He sat there in silence, enjoying the lovely day and pleasant company. His idyll wasn't to last.

Snape came storming out the doors heading down the path. He was halfway past the benches when he noticed his quarry sitting there. Spinning on his heel, he drew his wand in a flash, levelled it at Gabrielle and spat, "YOU!"

Harry was moving before the magic even began to leave the man's wand. Diving to his left, he knocked his wife prone and barrelled into Hermione, levelling her as well. He was just in time, as a lurid red jet of eldritch fire rocketed over them as he rolled off his friend.

Harry's wand dropped into his hand and the clash that had been brewing for years began.

His wand a blur, Harry quickly cast a spread of Reductor curses with all his power, just as Flitwick had been teaching them. "Take down their shields first," he had preached repeatedly. Snape shielded, but his Contego shield crumpled like tin in the face of the furious Potter Lord.

Snape ripped off a pair of dark curses that Harry didn't recognize. Unwilling to trust a shield against curses he wasn't acquainted with, he jumped and contorted himself to dodge the inbound spells.

Landing facing his opponent, Harry decided to quit being gentle and started with his favourite end game curses. The Bone Breaking curse followed by the Bone Exploding curse shot from his wand like hunting death. Snape successfully shielded the Bone Breaker, but the Bone Exploding curse burst through his shield as if it wasn't there and impacted the greasy git on the non-wand arm.

The results were horrifying.

Severus Snape's arm exploded like an overripe melon. Gore, blood and bone chips landed on those standing nearby like so much confetti. Before Harry could process what he was seeing, he heard four of the bystanders vomiting.

"STOP THIS! SEVERUS! HARRY! STOP!"

Dumbledore's words had little effect. Snape was in shock and stared at Harry in patent disbelief. Harry then made his first of two mistakes of the day; he didn't finish his opponent off. Snape's arm was gone three inches above where his left elbow had been and his lifeblood was splashing on to the paving stones. Harry assumed the man was done.

As Harry lowered his wand, Snape spun and shrieked, "AVADA KEDAVRA!" with his wand pointed at Gabrielle's face.

Time slowed to a near standstill. Harry was rooted to his position and could only watch the spell grow and extend from the former Death Eater's wand. With wide eyes, he tried to will Gabrielle out of the path of the spell. She didn't dodge; she just let herself fall so that the sickly green light flew over her head. The world was silent as Harry's relieved eyes watched the still deadly spell track across the lawn.

"Oh, no."

The Killing curse hit Albus Dumbledore in the chest.

With no ceremony at all, the old man dropped to the ground, dead.

Time and sound came back in a rush. Harry raised his wand, the Bone Exploding curse in his mind as a fireball engulfed the murderer of Albus Dumbledore.

Harry looked to his wife and saw her sitting up, her face streaked with dirt and her hands extended toward their assailant.

Ignoring the now screaming Snape, Harry ran to his wife, thereby making his second mistake of the day. She shook him off and tried to move him out of her view of Snape, but it was too late.

Snape had extinguished the fireball and was running down the path to the Front Gates. The blood flow from his arm had stopped and with the man's lead, Harry didn't think he could catch the now former Professor. Didn't know if he _wanted_ to catch the man. He wasn't sure what he would do if he had the wounded and weakened Potion Master in his grasp and didn't want to find out.

Two students shot past and Harry recognized Terry Boot and Blaise Zabini sprinting in vain after the fleeing man. Turning back to his wife, a somewhat frantic Harry asked, "Are you Ok?"

Gabrielle's expression of annoyance faded when she saw how truly worried Harry was. She gave him her little smile, caressed his cheek and whispered, "I am fine. A few bumps on my derriere, but I will live." She cocked an eyebrow and baited him a bit, "Do you think you could help me with those bruises later, mon cher?"

He laughed, the tension beginning to bleed out of him. Before he could stand, they were both engulfed in the arms of Hermione who was sobbing in her fear, relief and horror at what she had seen.

It was a long time before the threesome was able to make their way into the castle.

.oOo.

The Aurors came, of course. They interviewed Harry, Gabrielle and Hermione. After discussing Snape's behaviour in the class with the three friends, they also interviewed the rest of the students in the Potions class as well. No charges were levied on Harry. Multiple witnesses testified that Snape had attacked the Potters and that Harry was defending himself and his wife.

Classes were cancelled for two days. At dinner that evening, Flitwick stood on a small stage at the front of the Great Hall and announced that the Board of Governors had appointed him interim Headmaster to finish the school year. A search was to be held and a full hiring selection to be done over the upcoming summer break. A former Potions professor, one Professor Horace Slughorn, had been hired on to finish the school year.

There was discussion of interring the old man in a grandiose sepulchre near the lake. Thankfully, the ridiculous idea was abandoned as soon as it was raised. As the acting Headmaster, Flitwick stepped in and in the end Dumbledore was buried in the castle graveyard next to Harold Smith, a headmaster who died in the Eleventh Century.

As Harry and Gabrielle wound their way across the grounds after the funeral, Harry wrapped his arm around his wife and held her close. Knowing him all too well, she asked, "What troubles you, my love?"

"I feel incredibly guilty about Dumbledore's death." Without giving her a chance to respond, he charged ahead. "He was a complete bastard; there is no doubt about it at all. But dead?" He shook his head, "Blackmailers aren't executed." Holding up a hand, he again continued, "Don't get me wrong, I hated him. But I didn't want him dead. Not really. When I was all het up, sure, I spouted off, but not seriously."

She nodded knowingly. Harry was a good and moral man who could kill a man in self-defence, but never murder. Gabi believed that Harry would have suffered few troubles if he had killed Snape the other day. It was a fair fight and Snape had started it.

If Harry had struck down Snape from hiding, though, that was another matter. In that case, she knew that her husband wouldn't sleep for weeks because of his conscience.

Burrowing into his embrace, she murmured, "I love you. You've done nothing wrong."

"But I did. I should have put Snape down like the dog he is. I hesitated and because of that, Dumbledore is dead and Snape got away."

She processed his words before responding, "Maybe. Maybe not. We will never know and there is nothing that you can accomplish with this pointless self-flagellation. What you can accomplish is to review the incident and learn from your mistakes. Such as…?"

"Don't stop until he's dead or unconscious."

Nodding her head, she stated, "Then there is good coming from this after all."

They were silent as they meandered a bit, finally sitting on 'their' bench down at the lake.

"We're free now."

She nodded in answer. They were silent, considering this concept. The savour was not nearly as sweet as they had envisioned. Not quite ashes in their mouths, but not honey either.

"Hopefully, Director Bones can cut to the chase and arrange Sirius' examination and then exoneration."

Gabrielle sighed. "I hope so. This year has been much harder than last."

Kissing her softly on the temple, he murmured, "Amen."

.oOo.

"My Lord! My Lady! A moment, if you please!"

They paused as the rotund whiskered man that had been introduced at dinner as Professor Slughorn bent his course in their direction. Overtaking the Potters, the man gave a short little bow before introducing himself.

"As you have gathered, I am Professor Horace Slughorn, Head of Slytherin house and one time Professor Emeritus of Potions." He chuckled to himself at his little joke. "I wanted to invite the two of you to a little gathering I host every so often during the school year. I've done this throughout my career as a means for people to meet others, a networking opportunity to use the modern parlance."

"That's very interesting, Professor. Let us know when and we'll see if our schedules permit. As you know, we are in our O.W.L. year and therefore, don't have much free time."

"Quite right, my Lord. I too am completely overcome with work. Organizing syllabi, ensuring standards are up to date and I find a deplorable lack of lecture and exposition in my predecessor's lesson plans. I'd not thought Severus would have made such an oversight." Repeating his little bow, the new/old professor bid them adieu, "I shall be seeing you in class then. Good evening."

.oOo .

As Harry and Gabrielle left Transfiguration #5, Susan Bones came running up to them, a folded parchment in her hand. Without preamble, she pulled the Potters into the empty classroom across the hall and sealed the door.

The redheaded Hufflepuff turned to find Harry with his wand in his hand while Gabrielle had a fireball burning soundlessly in her own.

With slow, deliberate motions, Susan pocketed her wand and held her hands out to show they were empty. As calmly as she could, Susan professed, "It's just me. I've got a letter from Auntie for you about your godfather, Harry."

Slowly, Harry lowered his wand and reached for the letter. Opening it, he sighed and nodded to his wife. Gabrielle lowered her hand and the fireball extinguished. As Harry read, Gabi said to Susan, "We've learned to be very wary."

Susan nodded in understanding and was about to respond when Harry gasped. "What is it, cher?"

"She's got a Veritaserum questioning of Sirius scheduled for the day after tomorrow in front of the Wizengamot. She needs us to produce him tomorrow to take him into protective custody."

Susan nodded while the Potters were struck dumb. The silence was interrupted by Harry's cry of, "SHIT! I CAN'T GET HIM IN TIME!"

They were silent as Harry fumed and paced the empty classroom. Gabrielle snapped her fingers, bringing the attention of the other two on her. "Professor McGonagall," she said.

Harry rolled his eyes and gave her a quick kiss. "I'm an idiot," he muttered, leaving the room for the classroom across the hall they'd vacated minutes before.

The professor was tidying up after the lesson and clucking her tongue at the mess Ron Weasley had made of his pincushion/hedgehog transfiguration. There was a jello-like puddle on the boy's desk which was in the vague shape of a hedgehog. Oddly, it had four toothpicks protruding from the greenish substance which smelled distinctly like limes.

McGonagall was muttering to herself and didn't hear the three students approaching her. "Moron can't do a simple transfiguration after two weeks of practicing. Be lucky if he only gets a bloody 'T' on his O.W.L…."

Surprised at her vitriol, Harry stopped and cleared his throat. The Transfiguration professor spun around and without indication that she knew they had heard her statements, said, "Mr. Potter. Mrs. Potter and Miss Bones, what do you require?"

Harry hesitated for a moment before taking the plunge, "I need to speak with my godfather Professor. Can you arrange it?"

.oOo.

Since Dumbledore had died, the Fidelius charm protecting the house where Sirius lived had failed. McGonagall had taken the students to her office and given them the Floo address. Harry stumbled out of the fireplace, grumbling and swearing the entire time. Stepping away from the fireplace, he glanced around the room where he'd arrived. He recognized it from his summertime Floo conversation with Sirius. Grey and gloomy, the kitchen was not a place where he'd like to eat a lot of meals.

The fireplace roared again, disgorging Gabrielle. To his chagrin, she gracefully stepped out of the fireplace, not an ounce of soot on her robes. A heartbeat later, Susan Bones stepped out of the green fire in the same state. After a little deliberation, they'd decided that Susan's presence would help provide credence to their argument for Sirius to turn himself in to the DMLE. Harry didn't know his godfather that well, but assumed there would be stiff resistance to the idea.

"Harry?"

Harry turned to see Remus Lupin standing in the doorway of the dim kitchen. "Professor," he greeted neutrally. "We're here to see Sirius. Could you direct us to him?" Harry asked as the fireplace roared one last time, pouring out Minerva McGonagall.

The four visitors followed the former Professor up to the first floor drawing room. Remus knocked and opened the door without waiting for a response. He stuck his head in the room and Harry heard him say, "Padfoot, you've visitors."

"Huh?"

The door opened wide to show a healthy but pasty white Sirius Black clad in old-fashioned robes. His beard had been shaved to a tasteful goatee and his hair trimmed and pulled back in a ponytail.

"Harry? Gabrielle?"

Harry smiled widely for the first time in weeks. "Hullo, Sirius."

.oOo.

"So you want me to turn myself in?"

Harry gave a short shrug and said, "It'll get you the Veritaserum questioning that will clear you. Wormtail can go hang then, who cares?"

"I dunno, Harry. This could be a trick to get me to come out of hiding." He smiled at his godson, "And I did swear an oath to keep myself well."

Harry smiled back but was interrupted by Susan.

"Mr. Black," she said icily. "My Aunt is an honourable woman. If she wants to take you into protective custody, you will arrive at your questioning unharmed."

Sirius wasn't fazed by the young woman's offended tone and just stared at her for a time. Eventually he countered, "Miss Bones, you may be right or you may be wrong. I have no way of knowing that and to be honest, I don't trust you or your Aunt. If she'd done her job, she would have realized at the end of last year that I was innocent."

The three teens stared at the Black Lord in confusion for a second before Gabrielle groaned. "Pettigrew was in the memory that Harry made everyone watch after the third task."

Silence pervaded the drawing room for a full minute before Harry offered an olive branch to both Sirius and Susan. "Sirius, I agree, Director Bones should have made the connection, but give her a break. She'd just seen Voldemort resurrected. I think she had bigger things on her mind at that time. On top of it, she had to deal with Fudge acting like a lump of foul deformity, a boil, a plague sore and not so much brain as ear wax."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes as the rest began laughing at Harry's descriptions of the honourable Cornelius Fudge, Minister of Magic. "Very well, oh quoter of the Bard. That's enough, we get the point. She should have noticed, but had much larger issues to attend, yes?"

She saw Sirius give a resigned nod. Finally, he looked to McGonagall and asked, "What's your opinion, Minerva?"

Sitting ramrod straight in her chair, the Transfiguration Professor replied, "I've known Amelia these last thirty years and I would trust her with my life. I believe you can trust her."

Now a spark of life flared in Padfoot's eye. With a decisive nod, he agreed, "I guess I've an appointment to keep tomorrow."

.oOo.

With Professor McGonagall's permission, the Potters stayed the night with Sirius. "I'll have Tobby bring you your things for tomorrow and the next day."

They'd thanked the professor profusely. She'd merely rolled her eyes and rejoined, "You two could have taken your O.W.L.s at the beginning of the year in the wanded subjects, so hush. I'll be back for the questioning." Regarding Sirius with a serious expression she offered, "I wish you good fortune, Sirius."

With emotion he gave the ritual answer, "And for you as well, Minerva."

With that, Minerva and Susan used the Floo to return to school leaving the Potters and Sirius alone. They sat at the table while Sirius began to make lunch for them all. He turned out to be a fairly decent cook and the Sheppard's pie was quite tasty.

"This is really good Sirius," Gabrielle praised.

Sirius gave a one-shouldered shrug before he smiled at Harry. "I promised to take care of myself and I wasn't sure if that included eating right. Just in case, I asked Molly Weasley if she'd teach me how to cook. A couple months later…" he trailed off and indicated the plate in front of him.

Harry was surprised, but merely complemented him, "Well, however it came about it's very good."

"I also quit drinking."

"Really?" Harry had heard that in their schooldays, the Marauders could drink most of the school under the table.

Sirius nodded and took a deep draught of his water glass. "Yep. I'm up at six every day to exercise in the basement. Dumbledore was a somewhat benevolent warden. He expanded the basement and used some serious transfiguration to make a one-mile track through woods down there. I run it for four or five miles every day."

Now the Potters were flabbergasted. They'd expected Sirius to be wasting away in guilt and self-loathing. Here he was doing what he could to keep himself fit and sane and it surprised them both.

Sopping up the last of his meal with a slice of bread, Sirius swallowed and wiped his face on his napkin. He recognized the expressions on his companions' faces and waved them back to their meal. "Look, I've failed you enough in this life. I realized after we talked last summer that if I gave up I would be failing you again."

Sighing loudly, he continued, "So, I threw myself into getting better. I talked a lot about my guilt with people I respected. Minerva was at the top of the list and she helped me immeasurably. A few others that I don't think you know; Hestia Jones and my cousin, Andi Tonks. Andi's a healer and she suggested the exercise to help rehabilitate my body and as an outlet for stress and such. I was sceptical but it helped a lot." He smirked and added, "And it helped me regain my sexy-beast figure."

When the laughter from all three abated to chuckles, Sirius continued in a more thoughtful vein, "Look, you don't need a father. I know that. You're mostly grown with a wonderful wife," he smiled roguishly at Gabrielle, "but, maybe you'd like an Uncle Padfoot to hang around with and give you pointers."

With emotion, Harry answered, "I'd like that, Sirius. I'd like that above all things."

.oOo.

The next day was very difficult for the Potters and Sirius. For all of his talk about trusting Amelia Bones, Harry was very nervous that something would go wrong. Gabrielle had held him the whole night through, dispelling lingering nightmares from his Dementor experience. It seemed that every time he met up with Sirius, he would have the nightmares for a night or two. Unfortunately, his godfather would always be associated with Dementors in his mind.

The three were about to use the Floo to meet up with Amelia Bones when Gabrielle stepped up to Sirius and commanded, "Don't move."

Sirius glanced at Harry who shook his head in bewilderment. "I don't know, but when she gets like that, it's best to nod your head and go with it." Gabrielle smiled happily at the sentiment and began casting charms on Sirius.

Black's hair became sandy blond, his lean face rounded and his grey eyes became green. Stepping back, Gabrielle muttered, "That's good enough."

Harry held out the Floo powder pot and everyone grabbed a bit. "Here goes," muttered Sirius. "Ministry of Magic!" and jumped into the green fire.

It was right at noon as Harry emerged from the fireplace in the Ministry's atrium. He didn't realize how huge the space was and almost got turned around. Sirius' firm grip on his arm stopped him from wandering off. Turning to his wife and godfather, he saw Amelia Bones approaching over Gabrielle's shoulder. He nodded in her direction and the other two turned.

Amelia was straight to business. Eyeing the disguised Sirius, she asked, "Are you him?" to which Sirius nodded. "Right then, your wand please."

When he'd handed it over, the four of them walked past the check in point and headed to the lift. Once the grate closed and they were alone, Amelia cast a quick privacy charm. Once again, she was all business and informed them of her preparations, "I've personally filled out all the appropriate forms for this process and Connie Hammer is the only officer in the detention level All other prisoners have been moved to the Azkaban holding facility and so too will any other prisoners that come in over the next twenty-four hours. She's completely secured the area for the next twenty-four hours and will be the only officer on the level until I come to fetch you tomorrow for your questioning."

Sensible of the Director's efforts, Sirius merely said, "Thank you for all this."

With a glint that indicated that she'd had a talk with her niece, Amelia responded, "I'm doing my job, that's all."

With a hint of chagrin, Sirius nodded and followed her out of the lift to the detention level, Harry and Gabrielle right behind him.

.oOo.

Sirius was to be questioned at 0900, so Harry and Gabrielle were in front of the fireplace at 0800 getting ready to go when it roared and Minerva McGonagall stepped out. The tall witch regarded her pupils quickly, nodded in approval at their apparel and turned back to the fire.

Harry was wearing his formal head of house robes while Gabrielle wore robes of the most expensive silk, the Potter crest on her left breast indicating her as the wife of a head of house.

Minerva tossed her Floo powder in the fire and then stepped in after it turned green shouting, "Ministry of Magic!"

Harry let go an explosive breath before giving his wife an endearing look. "Showtime."

Courtroom 10 was enormous. On the huge wooden doors to the facility, Harry saw a sign that read, 'Seating Capacity 1500' and when the doors opened he saw that it was standing room only. Fortunately, directly behind the table for the defence were three roped off chairs with a card that read 'Reserved' attached to it.

Harry led the way to the chairs and after catching Amelia's eye, received approval to take the seats. Just as they settled in, the rumble of conversation in the room jumped as the back doors opened. Sirius was then escorted to the defendant's chair by Connie Hammer. He was washed and shaved, even wearing new robes. _Amelia must have purchased those_, Harry thought.

A solicitor that Harry didn't recognize approached Sirius. It was obvious by the muted pleasure at which he greeted his solicitor that Sirius knew the man. After a moment's discussion, Sirius turned and waved to someone in the crowd behind Harry.

The unknown solicitor conferred with Amelia, both of them nodding the entire time. After shaking hands, the solicitor conferred with Sirius one more time. After emphatic nodding of Sirius' head, the solicitor gave Sirius a friendly pat on the shoulder before nodding to Amelia.

At this point, a sergeant at arms called out, "All rise! Their Lordships the honourable members of the Wizengamot Lord Dundas, Lord Pellew and Lady Warren presiding over the interrogation of his Lordship Sirius Orion Black, thirteenth Viscount Black!"

Three robed and bewigged persons mounted the ornate bench that was at the head of Courtroom 10. Usually, for a capital trial, the entire Wizengamot stood as jury. Since this was a formal interrogation, which could lead to an indictment followed by a trial, only three members had been selected at random to preside over the proceedings. Normally, there wouldn't be judges present, but due to the high profile prisoner and the…irregularities involved, Amelia had insisted on judges being present.

Once the prisoner's name had been leaked and the reason for having the interrogation _now_ as opposed to a decade ago…well, every Wizengamot member and their mother had packed into the courtroom. So too was every reporter for every paper in Britain, the Continent, North America, South America, Asia and Australia. There was even a reporter from _The Penguin Times_, a weekly paper published at one of the semi-permanent settlements on Antarctica. In other words, the entire world was there.

Lord Dundas, sitting in the middle seat of the bench as the presiding judge, spoke in a gravely voice that made Harry think of the time he'd heard the Dursley's watching _Moby Dick_. Dundas had a sailor's voice.

"You may begin Director."

Amelia formally opened the procedures, reciting the ritual words that made the interrogation legal. Then the explosions began. "My Lords, my Lady, after conferring with the prisoner and his counsel, the prisoner has agreed to unrestricted Veritaserum questioning."

Loud murmuring began in the enormous gallery and Lord Pellew raised his eyebrows almost off his wizened face. With an incredulous expression, Lord Dundas checked with his fellow judges, saw no objections and then replied to Amelia, "Very well, Madam. The Crown may proceed."

Amelia nodded and Connie Hammer approached Sirius and administered the appropriate dose of Veritaserum.

"State your full name and birth date for the record."

"Sirius Orion Betelgeuse Black, born October 21, 1959."

"Were you the secret keeper for the Potters?"

"No."

Now the murmuring became a dull roar.

"Silence!" Lord Dundas roared in a full gale voice. "I will have silence or you'll all be removed!"

His scowl and words cowed the mob, which quieted immediately. He nodded to Amelia to continue.

"Who was the secret keeper for the Potters?"

"Peter Pettigrew."

Murmurs arose for moments that were quashed by Lord Dundas' steely gaze.

"Did you kill Peter Pettigrew?"

"No."

"Did you kill the muggles on Haversham Road on November First, 1981?"

"No."

"What did happen?"

"I was searching for Peter in my rage and grief at James and Lily's death. I found Peter but before I could speak, he started raving about me betraying James and Lily. He cast a spell behind his back, I think it was the Blasting curse, and then assumed his animagus form of a common rat. He then scampered into the then exposed sewers."

Dead silence in the courtroom.

Amelia sighed. So far, Sirius Black was exonerated. She could request a dismissal of all charges against the man, make a recommendation for reparations and be done.

However, there was more to this already sordid affair that made it even more squalid. Corruption and blackmail, neither of which was very palatable lay underneath this festering sore. No matter her personal opinions, as it would still make her life hell for the foreseeable future, justice demanded she continue. She knew where the next line of questioning had to terminate. In the end, she put her duty before herself. She asked, "How did you escape from Azkaban?"

"I'm a canine animagus. My form resembles the Grim. When only the Dementors patrolled my cellblock, I would assume my form. Dementors can't see and they didn't affect me as much when I was a dog. Eventually, I became so thin that I could fit between the bars. The Dementors didn't notice I was gone."

"Why did you escape?"

"I saw a picture of Peter in his rat form in the paper. He was on the shoulder of the youngest Weasley boy, they'd just won a drawing or some sort. I knew that Peter would be at Hogwarts and felt that I needed to be there in order to protect Harry."

"Harry Potter, your godson?"

"Yes."

"Did anyone else know of your innocence? If so, please list them."

"Yes. Peter Pettigrew, Lord Voldemort, Harry Potter, Hermione Granger, Remus Lupin, Albus Dumbledore, Cornelius Fudge and Severus Snape."

It was so quiet in the courtroom that Harry could hear the blood flowing through his veins.

Amelia met Harry's eyes and he gave her a short nod.

"Why didn't your godson speak out? Surely the press would have listened to the Boy-Who-Lived?"

"Fudge had been told but refused to believe Harry or his friends. Remus is a werewolf, so he was immediately discounted. Fudge then tried to have me kissed even after he was told I was innocent. Dumbledore used me as leverage over Harry. The Headmaster blackmailed Harry into coming back to Hogwarts this year instead of attending Beauxbatons."

Now there was shouting and the roar of before was eclipsed by the wall of sound from the gallery. Reporters were apparating out of the courtroom to file their stories, rubberneckers were exclaiming and the whole time, Harry smiled. He wrapped his arm about his wife's shoulders, gave her a quick kiss, and smiled.

.oOo.

Sirius was released immediately and the four of them walked to the Atrium together. Sirius was still slightly under the influence of the Veritaserum, a fact that Harry took advantage of to tease him.

"So Padfoot, when you were in school, did you ever prank Professor McGonagall here?"

A soft smile and a far away look covered his face as he began, "Oh yeah. There was this time…"

"Harry Potter!" Gabrielle shouted with a stern smile. Sirius stopped, shook off the potion effect and mock glared at his godson. The foursome was silent for a moment before they all laughed hysterically.

He was free.

Eventually they made their way to the Atrium where Minerva surprised them all by giving Sirius a big hug before returning to Hogwarts.

They used the Floo to hop to Gringotts where Sirius withdrew a suitcase full of Pounds. Harry gave Sirius a quizzical expression that Padfoot answered with maniac glee, "I'm never setting foot in my mother's home again. I'm going to the best hotel in London for a month and then I'll buy a truly excessive house somewhere."

Harry and Gabrielle were laughing at the end. Sirius hooked an arm over each of their shoulders and guided them out. They laughed and joked the entire way to the Cauldron.

.oOo.

[_Daily Prophet_ Headline the next day]

SIRIUS BLACK INNOCENT

FUDGE RESIGNS

DUMBLEDORE A BLACKMAILER

.oOo.

"My Lord Potter!"

They had known that this was coming. Before turning to the shrieking voice, they both unholstered their wands.

Their plan was put askew by the Cutting curse that opened up Gabrielle's back from her left hip to right shoulder before they could even turn around.

Hermione screamed. Blood had immediately soaked Gabrielle's robes as she slumped to the ground.

Time slowed once again. With horror, Harry saw his mate slump to the floor, seemingly lifeless. Fear burst into overmastering rage. To him it took an eternity to lift his goddamn wand and aim centre of target - old toad face's chest.

To the rest of the students, Harry's wand arm was a blur and the resulting five spells appeared to be only one.

The Reductor curse is a moderately powerful curse. Cast at low power, it is excellent for digging postholes or knocking down walls for renovation. At high power, it is very dangerous, as it is usually only used in mining operations and other excavation type situations.

When it is cast by a Mage who is in a fury, the results are nothing short of devastating.

Turning away from the mass of blood sodden flesh that had been Dolores Umbridge, Harry saw Hermione casting charm after charm on his wife. Thanking all the gods of heaven and earth that Hermione had taken a fancy to healing spells, he saw the gaping wound on Gabrielle's back close, leaving a very slight scar. In later years, it would only be apparent when one inspected her back at close range in bright light.

Harry's heart melted when he heard his wife moan, "Merde…"

He knelt next to her and whispered into her ear, "Comme ça va?"

She opened her eyes and whispered, "Better, now that you are here."

He scooped her into his arms, ignoring the blood and began carrying her to the Infirmary. Hermione shook herself and grabbed both Potters' bags. None of them looked back at the road kill that was the remains of Dolores Umbridge.

Harry was sitting on the bed next to his sleeping spouse. Madam Pomfrey had checked all Hermione's actions pronouncing Gabrielle fit, but needing a blood replenishing potion and rest. Two potions later, the beautiful blonde Potter was asleep and the ebony haired Potter was beginning to relax.

Hermione sat next to him and began to rub his back. He gave her a quick smile and murmured, "Thank you, Hermione. You saved her life."

Hermione returned his smile and replied, "She's one of my two best friends and your love. I couldn't do any less."

"Well, thanks anyway."

"No, problem."

"Any idea what set her off?"

There was no discussion regarding who the 'her' in question was. Hermione shook her head but a squeaky voice from behind them answered for her. "I believe this morning's paper holds the answer for you, Mr. Potter."

Flitwick handed Harry the paper and he understood.

BONES NEW MINISTER

.oOo.

It was a beautiful day for a Quidditch match. Fleur was in the stands sitting next to Gabrielle, the sisters laughing and catching up on news. Fleur had been quite upset about the attack on Gabrielle. Since the younger sister had only been in the Infirmary for a morning, there was no chance to visit.

They were making up for that now.

Hermione had wanted to join the conversation, but didn't feel comfortable interrupting the sisters. Fleur had solved that problem by hooking her arm in Hermione's and forcefully dragging the girl into their circle. Harry didn't think he'd seen his oldest friend happier.

Bill Weasley sat down next to Fleur and his girlfriend smiled at him. Two days ago, Gabrielle received a three-word letter from her sister: I KISSED HIM.

Hermione and Gabrielle exchanged private smiles as Bill and Fleur shared a quick kiss. He had been to the Île de la Cité many times since Christmas and his French had progressed significantly. Harry had owled him three of the etiquette books that he'd found most helpful. Bill had apparently devoured them and asked for more. He'd even signed up for dancing lessons. Bill was not regarded at the 'family' level that Harry was. He was, though, making good progress.

Conversation became muted as the balls were released. Ravenclaw had a very fast team that had beaten Slytherin and Hufflepuff. This match was for the cup.

Hermione looked around and counted over two dozen adults that she didn't recognize. All had omnioculars recording the match and a quill in hand for notes.

Ravenclaw dashed for the quaffle but was deterred by two well-aimed bludgers from the Weasley brothers. So it began.

It ended an hour later with Harry scooping up the snitch. He'd used the Wronski Feint to success, ploughing the opposing seeker. Twice he'd broken up breakaway attacks on goal and had been a constant pest to the Ravenclaw keeper, unsighting him on the Gryffindor attacks.

The twins had been magnificent.

'The Girls' had dominated the smaller chaser line.

McLaggen had been good, allowing only eight goals in twenty attempts.

440-80 was the final score.

As they celebrated their win and the Cup, Harry began laughing hysterically. The others quizzed him on it and he could only point. The others looked and saw Gabrielle and Hermione attempting to revive Oliver Wood. They would find out later that in his paroxysm of joy when Harry caught the snitch, he'd fainted.

When the team landed, they were surrounded. Usually it was their housemates wanting to congratulate them. This time, it was reporters, scouts and agents. With four graduating starters and Harry on the team, there was real interest in these players who had dominated the school Quidditch league for the last five years.

The General Manager for Puddlemere United cornered Harry and said, "Not sure if you'd consider leaving school early, Harry. Nevertheless, we want you to start for our club. I'm sure Oliver's told you we need help seeking."

With a gleam in his eye, Harry responded, "I'm sure you need help beating, too."

The GM smiled, understanding his meaning, "Yes, I believe we do at that."

Scott Boras, the most famous of all Quidditch agents cornered the entire team and began to sell them on him and his agency's capabilities in representing them on the professional level. In a show of respect, all the players turned to Harry and asked, "What do you think?"

Humbled at their question he told Boras, "Send us a package with your details and we'll get back to you."

Once they managed to get to the field house to change and shower the team was in a state of stunned disbelief.

"I had the GM of the Harpies promise me and Alicia starting slots."

"The editor of Quidditch Illustrated wanted me to pose for their swimsuit edition."

"Puddlemere handed us contracts."

"Wimbourne offered me a reserve Keeper position."

They all looked at each other for a long moment and then began laughing. Knowing it was their last time playing together; they embraced, laughed and cried. Eventually, they cleaned up and headed up to the school.

Harry and the twins were laughing and joking as they walked out of the dressing rooms. Outside the sisters, Hermione, Bill, the Weasley clan who'd come up for the match and Oliver Wood were waiting. The twins went to their parents waving their contracts while Ron paled in recognition of what they had. Gabrielle, Hermione and Fleur flocked to Harry, covering him with kisses and accolades.

Sirius appeared from around the corner of the field house, a stunning blonde on his arm. He embraced Harry and then introduced him to Hestia Jones, "We were in school together."

Harry cocked an eyebrow and to the surprise of all gathered, Padfoot, sexy-beast of the Marauders, actually blushed.

Harry and Gabrielle exchanged wide smiles and the entire troupe headed for Hogsmeade, the private room Oliver'd reserved and a party for the rest of the day.

.oOo.

That night, Harry and Gabrielle made love in slow, sweet, tender fashion. At the height of their union, each called out the other's name; the throes of passion overtaking them.

Afterward, they lay their panting and savouring their pleasure and each other's pleasure as well. Gabi curled up on Harry's chest and he pulled her close. Harry couldn't help but reflect on the almost complete school year.

O.W.L.s were next week but neither was really stressed about the topic. History of Magic was the only course about which they were even mildly concerned.

This year had been hard. His hardest yet. The constant pressure of controlling himself with Dumbledore and Snape at the height of their loathsome-ness had taxed him to the last. On top of it, he had to help Gabrielle. As he lay there reflecting, he realized that she'd helped him as much or more than he'd helped her.

Umbridge. What a nightmare. Enough said.

Sirius was going to visit them at White Rock this summer and Henri had already contacted their tutors to continue their studies this summer. After a suitable break, though. After this year, he needed a rest.

.oOo.

In central London, a deformed disfigured man cackled. Picking up his wand, Lord Voldemort cast the Cruciatus curse once again on his victim.

A/N

1. I own nothing. Unfortunately.

2. Thanks to any and all who reviewed and have waited for this next instalment of Harry and Gabrielle's tale. I have a whoopsie to own up to in chapter 2. I gave Hermione's mother the name of 'Jennifer' in the beginning of the chappie and it changed to 'Alice' later. Therein lies the danger of writing multiple stories simultaneously (She's Alice in _Partners_). I should have picked it up, I'm sorry. Thanks to all who pointed it out in their reviews. At first, I didn't understand what was being said so I was a bit confused. Repeated bludgeoning fixed the problem.

3. Yep, Ron didn't make the team. His problem all along has been confidence and what do you think his confidence level is now that he's lost his two best friends? Yeah, I agree, not too high.

4. Why didn't Henri figure out the Amelia Bones angle? 'Cause he's a politician, not a police officer. Harry and Gabrielle are pretty smart, but they are very ignorant as to the ins and outs of political/legal warfare. At least they were at the beginning of the chapter. I think I've explained pretty thoroughly how Dumbledore could effectively blackmail the Potters and the mistakes they made in trying to get out from under the man's thumb. The mistakes and oversights were on purpose. The story would be extremely boring and no fun at all if the characters were perfect and never made mistakes. Leave it alone in the reviews. Please.

5. I see Slughorn and Umbridge's sycophancy on par with Mr. Collins of Pride and Prejudice. She has the violent undercurrents that he lacks, though. I intentionally modelled their behaviour after him.

6. Yes, I know Grindlewald was imprisoned by Dumbledore vice killed (as seen in book 7). However, I hate book 7, so am wilfully disregarding it. In addition, Dumbledore's wand is not the Deathstick. Again, I hate book 7. The Deathly Hallows were a Deus Ex Machina of the highest order that still don't make sense to me.

7. "Calvo turpius est nihil compto" (Latin, Roman martial saying) "There's nothing more contemptible than a bald man who pretends to have hair." I'm a forty-something year old father of three with a receding hairline. I can use this line without being contemptible.

8. "Labor Omnia Vincit" (Latin) "Labour conquers all things_."_

9. For those of you who think it's ridiculous for Harry to be recruited by the Quidditch League as a Fifth year, I take my inspiration from American Baseball. The majority of drafted players have just completed their High School (aged 17-18) and the true superstars play for the Major League team as 18-19 year olds (e.g. Ken Griffey Jr, Alex Rodriguez…). It's not unusual, therefore, for 15-16 year old players to be scouted for the draft the next year. Harry is routinely described in canon as a phenomenal flyer and only missed the snitch the one time during his Third year. On top of that is his fame as the Boy-Who-Lived. I think he'd get serious consideration from professional teams.

10. For those that don't know, Betelgeuse (pronounced Beetlejuice – very funny movie by the way) is a star in the constellation Orion the Hunter. Along with Regulus and Sirius.

11. Recommendation for this chapter is Mutant Storm by Bobmin over on Fanfictionauthors(dot)net. Phenomenal cross with X-Men and HP and yes, Wolverine and the Goblins would get along famously.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Summer after Fifth Year**

"Damn."

Harry was sitting at the desk in the secondary Master Suite at White Rock, completely engulfed in parchment. After the match against Ravenclaw, he'd told the various sporting agents who'd approached him to send packets describing their services. Seventeen agents posted packages from one to four inches thick. They described their services, records of accomplishment with their existing players and promises of the sort. The brochures made Harry wonder what they considered realistic and what fell in the realm of fantastic.

This one was guaranteeing multi-year deals with all the amenities. That one was offering the lowest percentage for fees. The other was offering guarantees for the highest yearly pay.

"Crap."

"Why do I always have to reprove you for your language over the summer, my love?"

Distracted by what he was reading, Harry asked, "Huh?"

Smiling, Gabrielle Potter moved behind her husband and muttered, "Never mind." Reading over his shoulder, she muttered,

"Merde."

He had been on the verge of giving up trying to sort through the blizzard of information when his wife came in the room. It was Sunday and they'd been back from school for two days. He had promised himself and his wife that for the first two weeks, they would do no studying, no training. Nothing but relaxing on the beach, swimming in the warm waters of the Mediterranean and a few other nocturnal activities of which married couples engage. It wasn't charades, though.

"Give me that, mon cher." With a grateful smile, Harry handed the wad of offers to Gabrielle. As she sorted them out on the bed, she instructed him, "Get a large piece of parchment. We're going to organize this mess."

They ended up with a table that compared the known quantities. Agent fee rates, number of current players represented, teams those players played for, average salary for starting seekers and so on.

With a triumphant, "Hah!" he turned to her only for her to poke him in the ribs. After a few kisses, he turned back to the parchment and pointed. "Looks like Boras is the right guy for us."

"It does. He's used to working for the best and highest profile athletes. You definitely fit in that category."

Harry scratched out a letter to Boras requesting to meet in the next two weeks to discuss particulars. Showing it to Gabrielle, he added, "I'll have the barristers there, as well."

She nodded, they had learned the hard way the preceding year that they were far from experts in the law. Having the professionals guide them in the situation would help.

The previous summer they'd been very frustrated by the delay and general poor service from their inherited barristers. Harry had almost kissed Sirius when he told him that his barrister at the interrogation had been his Cousin Andromeda's husband, Ted. Within a few days, the Potter estate management and all legal services had been transferred to Maturin, Tonks and Aubrey.

Their new barristers had just forwarded the final forms of incorporation for Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Fred and George had retained the same firm Harry and Gabrielle used. They'd all decided to allow the experts figure out the appropriate shares for the major investors. Gabrielle had been surprised that they only owned thirty percent of the shop, but their primary barrister, Ted Tonks, had explained the situation to their satisfaction.

Sirius had arrived at White Rock yesterday. Harry had been surprised at his godfather's display of manners with Henri and Marie. Kicking himself later, he remembered that Sirius had been brought up in pureblood high society. Of course he would be aware of how to act when around persons of breeding.

He didn't always want to act so serious all the time, though.

This morning, Harry and Gabrielle were lying on the beach, enjoying the sun. Wearing baby shit brown swim shorts, Sirius sprinted down the sand between the Potters screaming, "SHARK! SHARK!" then dove into the surf headfirst.

What added to the extraordinarily strange sight was the fact that Sirius' skin was so pale as to be nearly translucent. His skin tone was disgustingly colourless and waxy, the wonderful after effects of living in his mother's home for a year straight without the blessing of sunlight.

Harry and Gabrielle watched him flounder in the surf, turn into Padfoot and back twice before he trotted up the sand wearing a broad grin.

With a matching broad smile, Harry handed his godfather a towel and laughed, "You are a menace!"

Wiping off his face, Sirius laughed, "I do try." He spread his towel next to Harry and sat.

Harry'd had a talk with Sirius the night before about Gabrielle and the beach. "All joking aside, Sirius. I'm sure that I don't need to really say something, but I'm just telling you up front. Don't perv on Gabrielle at the beach. She doesn't like guys staring at her bits; it really bothers her."

Sirius had been surprisingly mature when he responded, "And what bothers her, infuriates you."

"Spot on."

"Not a problem."

Sirius had been on excellent behaviour. He sat so that Harry was between his goddaughter-in-law and would continue to do so every time they went to the beach. He rarely looked at her and when he did, he made sure to look her directly in the eye.

The Head of House Black rose early to head back to the house. Business matters regarding his unlawful imprisonment suit and some wrangling over the Black Family Trust with his cousin Narcissa were pressing. There was also that beautiful blond who had accompanied him to the Quidditch match.

"You just want to see Hestia," Harry had teased.

Sirius gave an embarrassed smile. While lying on her stomach, Gabrielle offered, "I asked Mama, feel free to invite her to stay with us. Mama is a modern woman; you two can share a bed."

Sirius furrowed his brow in pleasant surprise. "You'd do that for me?"

Gabrielle shook her head in amused exasperation, "Sirius, you are my husband's godfather and the only connection he has to his parents. You are family here."

For Sirius Black these words had a dramatic impact. Most of his life, any connotation with the word 'family' aroused distasteful feelings. On this occasion, it was used in a way that made him feel warm and wanted. It was an unexpectedly pleasant feeling. One he'd try to cultivate.

"Thanks, I'll ask her when I Floo call her. She's a barrister – works in Ted Tonks' firm – so she may be able to get away. Working holiday at worst." He regarded the lounging Potters with real affection. "Thanks, guys."

Harry waved the thanks away, so Sirius headed back to the house. Once Sirius was out of sight, Gabrielle pulled Harry into the sea. Frolicking in the surf, Gabrielle gave Harry an affectionate look. "You talked to him, didn't you?"

"I did. I know how much you dislike being ogled so I gave him a fair warning."

She jumped into his arms, bearing them both underwater. He righted himself and arose from the water like a titan of long ago bearing his beloved in his arms. Seawater cascaded from both of them while she passionately kissed her husband.

"I love you."

.oOo.

"Hey, look at this," Harry called to his wife. Gabi looked up from the morning paper to see Harry holding out a letter from Fred and George.

"Oh, good. They signed with Puddlemere, Oliver will like that." Gabrielle had developed a strong liking of the Twins. They were rambunctious, silly and out and out odd, but they were well intentioned at all times. She'd never seen any of their pranks hurt nor bully anyone. Because of Harry's past, she was very sensitive to these matters and the Twins had become friends. Good friends at that.

This thought made her sit back and think for a bit. She had attended Beauxbatons for four years and never really became close to anyone. Sure, the presence of her sister alleviated any loneliness she may have felt, but she didn't have the quality of friends that she had now. There were no Hermione Granger or the Weasley Twins counterpart at Beauxbatons for her.

Part of it was Harry. She realized very quickly that none of the boys at the Beauxbatons Palace were her bond-mate. Therefore, she had been leery of becoming close to anyone of the opposite gender. She wanted to avoid romantic entanglements that would inevitably make her life harder. Fleur had tried dating a boy on a casual basis – casual for her that was. It had ended very badly and the boy ended up transferring to another school because he had begun stalking the part Veela after they had broken up.

Quite a few of the girls at the Palace had been green with envy at Gabrielle. Her looks, figure, money, intelligence and connexions all put her at the top of the top. She didn't want to, nor did she need to, deal with the cattiness and barbs that had already come her way during her first year. Because of the hassle and expected emotional pain, Gabi avoided girl friends. It hadn't been a conscious choice, more of an unconscious shying away from friendships with girls.

Harry made all the difference. Her heart was taken and now it was formalized for the entire world to know. Everyone who knew her and Harry, knew that they were devoted to each other. That devotion and commitment erased, in principle, all the issues she'd struggled against at Beauxbatons. On occasion, she wondered if her experience would have been different had they executed Harry's transfer to Beauxbatons for last year. Would she have developed close friendships as she did with Hermione, the Twins and Neville?

One thing occurred to her as she wandered down the lane of 'what if'. It seemed that Harry had the knack of attracting quality people to himself. He inspired loyalty and even devotion from extraordinary persons; from Hermione to Professor McGonagall, Neville, the Twins, Sirius and even Amelia Bones. Persons of high quality gravitated to him.

She didn't realize that she herself was one of those 'quality persons'. Though, if she'd asked Harry, he'd point to her first before all the others.

Shaking her head, she escaped her reverie and returned to the present. She glanced to her left and saw Harry watching her, an intense expression on his face. Smiling, she reached out her hand to him. Rising from his seat, he moved to her, took her hand and kissed it gently.

Her heart broke just a little. Harry had known no love before she met him. Well, that wasn't completely true. Hermione had loved him in her way. She'd been the most important person in his life until he met Gabrielle. In fact, Gabrielle was sure that Hermione had salvaged Harry's sanity in the madhouse that was Wizarding Britain.

Despite Hermione's best efforts, Harry had been kicked, punched and spit on his whole life by the very people that were supposed to love and cherish him. She was sure that his complete devotion to her was, in part, a backlash from his horrid experiences with his relatives.

She would never tell her husband, but Gabrielle had related to Fleur the essentials of Harry's upbringing. Capitalizing on her sister's rage, she'd suggested that a fully qualified witch who was an apprentice curse breaker for a Wizarding bank might know some appropriate long term curses to apply to such persons.

Fleur's answering smile had been feral indeed. Veela are very passionate in their attachments. Any person of intelligence never hurt a beloved of a Veela, it never ended well.

Gabrielle never asked if, or what, Fleur did about the Dursleys. Neither did Fleur volunteer the information. Late at night, when Harry was in the throes of a nightmare and Gabrielle held him tight, she liked to believe that Fleur had cursed the Dursleys soundly with a hex that would last the rest of their miserable lives.

Rousing her from her reverie, Harry called, "Come, love. Sirius is taking us out to eat tonight."

Hestia had come to White Rock that afternoon and proven to be an interesting person. Many barristers act as though the law was the only truly interesting point of discussion. In the hour or so in which she'd sat with the Potters, Hestia had proven to be a connoisseur of the arts. She had insisted that Sirius take them out to eat at one of the nicer brasseries in Nice.

They were going to travel to Florence the next day to wander about and bask in the sights. Hestia was very familiar with the city and wanted to take them to her favourite galleries at the Pitti Palace, the Uffizi and, of course, the La Galleria dell'Accademia (one couldn't go to Florence and not see the David). If the weather was nice over the course of their stay, they'd spend a day or so savouring the architecture of the birthplace of the Renaissance.

Harry led the way down the stairs. He was dressed in a summer weight suit that he had picked up on Saville Row. Gabrielle followed wearing a Chanel ensemble that struck the chord with what was popular for the season.

Laughing to himself, Harry saw the roles reversed. He was married and perfectly at ease with his beautiful wife who was also his best friend. Reaching out for her hand, he nodded toward his godfather and his girlfriend.

Sirius was chatting up Hestia as they waited in the sitting room. The aura of the room had a definite tension of back and forth. Give and take, searching and finding. Wrapping his arm around Gabrielle's shoulders, he called out, "Alright you two, that's enough of that. Do you need a chaperone?"

The general laughter was accentuated by Sirius' rude hand gesture. "Papa made us a portkey for the evening. It will drop us off in the magical quarter close to the restaurant." They all crowded around and a swirling vortex of magic later, they stood at the apparition spot for the magical quarter of Nice.

"Baron Potter! Do you have any comment about the British Quidditch League claim you've signed with the Chudley Cannons?"

"Lord Black! Who's the woman you're with?"

"Lady Potter! Is it true you're pregnant?"

"Lord Black! Now that you're free, are you going to take control of your godson's fortune?"

Harry valiantly tried to suppress the scowl from his face as he forced his way through the knot of reporters. He tried to imitate Gabrielle by smiling to all, nodding occasionally but answering nothing. It worked. Sort of.

Sirius had no compunction about scowling, though.

"Lord Potter, what's it like to be the 'first couple' of France and Britain?"

"Joyful," Harry muttered under his breath as they finally broke away from the interrogators.

They were being seated when Harry finally asked, "What the hell was that?"

Sirius looked at his godson as if the young man was a simpleton. "Are you a complete idiot or just partial?"

Harry raised his hand to return the jovial jibe, but his wife's hand prevented the extension of fingers. "Children…" she chided.

Sirius rolled his eyes then jumped as Hestia pinched his leg under the table. "Behave," she warned.

Surrendering, the Animagus raised his hands. Laying his napkin across his lap, Sirius explained, "Harry, first, it's known that you and Gabrielle are married. Second, it's known that her family has estates in the area. Third, it's known that you stayed here last summer. Fourth, that was probably the closest apparition point to your in-laws home. They most likely staked a few reporters out to wait, hoping you'd show. I wouldn't be surprised if there wasn't the same at Diagon Alley and Le Rue de Magique in Paris."

Harry's mouth dropped open during Sirius' explanation. His entire expression screamed 'Pull the other one Sirius'.

Gabi rolled her eyes, closed her husband's mouth and agreed with her godfather-in-law. "He's most likely right, love."

Their discussion was interrupted by the server and the process of ordering. The Potters were pleasantly surprised when Hestia ordered in French. They knew that Sirius spoke the language, so they continued the conversation in French.

It was a wonderful meal that lasted late into the night with much laughter for all parties.

.oOo.

Florence was just what the Potters needed. Gabrielle had visited before, but never with a connoisseur like Hestia. The two women chatted as they ambled through the galleries.

Harry had no idea what he was looking at. He'd heard the names Michelangelo and Da Vinci, but that was it. Looking at the paintings, he knew what he liked and what he thought looked like vomit on a canvas. Fortunately, most were beautiful.

Sirius took the opportunity to get to know his godson. Apart from the two days they'd spent together before his interrogation, he hadn't talked to his godson since before Harry could speak. He was overjoyed at Harry's professional Quidditch prospects and did a little jig when Harry told him about his selection as Seeker during his first year.

He was neither so happy nor silly as Harry related the tale of the Philosopher's Stone and the Chamber of Secrets.

When Harry finished his tale, Sirius was quiet for a long moment. Harry, afraid that his godfather was upset with him blurted out, "I'm sorry Sirius, I just wanted to help when I did all that."

Breaking out of his contemplation, Sirius waved off Harry's concerns. "Don't worry about that, Harry. I was wondering what Dumbledore was thinking."

Glancing around to see if they could be overheard, Sirius continued, "Those 'traps' as you called them for the Philosopher's Stone. Well I didn't see them, but from your description, they wouldn't stop a third year." Shaking his head and laughing in derision he amended, "They _didn't_ stop a trio of firsties. Dumbledore was no fool, why would he…"

Sirius' face fell and a shocked expression flooded his face as he stood, rooted to the spot.

Harry was worried, "What? What's wrong?"

Shaking off the expression, Sirius pasted a smile on his face and answered, "Not now. Tonight after dinner we're all going to have a chat."

.oOo.

That evening, they returned to the Villa San Michele, the opulent hotel owned and operated by Orient-Express Hotels. Sirius had impressed Hestia and the Potters by reserving two of the twenty five suites in the extremely exclusive former Franciscan Monastery.

They were enjoying their after dinner coffee on the terrace overlooking Florence, when Harry prompted Sirius, "Alright, Padfoot. What was all that about earlier today at the gallery?"

Sirius glanced around, saw no one watching so with a discrete wave of his wand, cast a privacy spell. He stared at the glass table for a long moment, a haunted expression covering his face.

Concerned, Harry looked to Gabrielle who returned his gaze with incomprehension. Hestia too didn't understand what Sirius was struggling with, but quickly figured the source. He was remembering James and Lily.

Remembering them wasn't the problem. He thought about James most every day and Lily along with him. No, it was remembering his friends and the circumstances, which had led to their far too early demise.

Shaking his mane of black hair, Sirius returned to those around him. He gave them all a half smile before he began. "Before James and Lily went into hiding, but after you were born, I used to come visit you all quite a bit. Usually, it was in Wales, but for the summer, Lily really liked the lake house. I'd stay a day or a week – whatever. They would've had me move in with them, but I didn't feel right walking around hoping I didn't find them shagging on the floor or something."

Hestia rolled her eyes and punched Sirius on the shoulder. Harry flinched. He knew his parent had sex; he was living proof of their coupling. No one, however, regardless of age likes to consider their parents in flagranté delecto.

Sirius smiled jauntily, his courage coming back. "Anyway, one of the times that I was with you at the Manor house, they were really subdued. Prongs was really serious and Lily always near tears. It was so unlike them. My first assumption was that someone had died.

"Anyway, after dinner that night, James and Lily exchanged a glance. She nodded so he led me outside. I was beginning to get even more worried as he hadn't really said two words all day." Sirius ran his hands through his hair, "You need to understand, Harry. Your dad is the most gregarious person I've ever met. For him to shut up for more than ten minutes was a miracle. This prolonged silence was just scaring the hell out of me.

"So, we get outside and before I can say anything, he transforms into Prongs and bounds away. Hell, I was game and needed to work off some tension, so I transformed into Padfoot and followed. He went halfway up Snowden before he finally stopped. Transforming back to himself, he looked at me and burst into tears.

Harry was beginning to be alarmed. He'd never known his father, but from everything he'd ever heard this was incredibly atypical.

"I didn't know what to do, so I embraced him, you know, like a brother thing. Eventually, he calmed down and began speaking in a low voice.

"'Padfoot', he told me. 'Dumbledore's told us something rather disturbing. Seems a prophecy's been made. It could…' he trailed off here as he choked up again. 'It could be about Harry, see. The prophecy's about You-Know-Who and Harry. Or maybe the Longbottom's boy, it's not really clear. It says that a baby born at the end of last July would have the power to finally take the bastard down. The one with this power will be marked it says in the wording of the blasted thing. It says that the marked one will have the power to finish the bastard, and…' Here he choked up again, 'Neither can live while the other survives.'"

Sirius was staring at Harry, praying his godson wouldn't hate him. Wishing that he could shelter him, take the burden and take the fear. He wanted Harry to live long, have lots of beautiful kids with his Veela wife and be the best damn Seeker in the history of the British Quidditch League. Not have to face a psychopathic, murdering bastard.

Harry's mind went blank. No fear, no anger, no nothing. He stared straight ahead until soft hands took him by the cheeks and turned his head.

While looking straight into his wife's eyes, she told him, "We'll do this. We'll do this together. Nothing has changed. You are still you, I'm still me and we are still together. We knew he was going to come after you, now we know why. I still love you. So do Sirius and Hermione. We all love you and will be with you every step of the way." Her eyes narrowed at his unconscious reaction, "And don't you try and push me away. I'm your wife; respect me enough to let me make my own decisions."

The shock began to ebb. His face relaxed a bit, but his hands began to shake. Gabrielle scooted her chair closer and took both his hands in hers. After taking a few deep breaths, Harry spoke, "Thanks for telling me, Sirius. I asked Dumbledore a few times, but he always put me off. Thanks for being honest with me."

Sirius reached across the table and added his hand to the Potter's that were intertwined. "I'm here for you. I wasn't for many years because I didn't think on that horrible day. Now, I'm going to think before I act and my actions are going to be for your best interest."

With an expression of the utmost gravity that surprised Harry, the black haired man elaborated, "I think it is vital for you to do things like we're doing here." He waved his hand about, indicating the trip to Florence. "You'll go absolutely bug-shit if you don't _live_ Harry. I should know."

"But the prophecy says…"

"Oh, bugger the prophecy!" Sirius barked.

Harry's eyes flew open in surprise. "You are going to live your life on your terms, Harry Potter!" Sirius was now pointing his finger at his godson. "I don't give a fart in hell about the prophecy. The only reason it makes a tinker's damn is that Voldemort knows part of it. That's why he keeps coming after you, the stupid wanker."

Rubbing his forehead, Harry muttered, "And I'm marked."

Sirius sat back in his chair, breathing heavily with emotion, "Yeah, but it doesn't matter." He mock preened and simpered, "You have the immortal-sexy-beast Padfoot on your side."

This caused general laughter around the table, as was his intention. Everyone was quiet for a minute or two, digesting the conversation.

With interest in his eyes, Harry asked his godfather, "So what was it about Dumbledore and the Philosopher's Stone that started this hare for you today?"

Sirius' laughing expression melted away and was replaced by a scowl. Gabrielle scowled in return. Her opinion of the late headmaster was not very much higher than her opinion of the uses of seven year old owl dung. If Sirius' news made him scowl, her opinion of the late Albus Dumbledore might plummet to new lows.

"I don't know, exactly. But the only thing I can think of why the stone would have such weak defences is because he was testing you in some way."

Gabi was right and her opinion did sink to new lows.

"But…"

"Look, Harry. Those defences didn't make Voldemort pause in his stride. Sure, the trick at the end with the mirror was a good one, but Dumbledore had to perform an enchantment to put the stone in the mirror. Voldemort may be crazy, but he's a smart wizard. Given time, he would have been able to break the enchantment."

Stunned, Harry looked to his right and saw Gabrielle scowling mightily. Sirius was sitting back in his chair, arms crossed. Hestia gave him a consoling look and offered, "It makes sense."

Nodding to himself, he muttered, "I guess it does." With no warning, he began to chuckle. The chuckle became a belly laugh, which evolved to a roaring burst of gaiety.

"What is so funny?" Gabrielle wasn't amused by the situation and, truth be told, was rather annoyed with Harry's laughter.

Wiping his eyes, he explained, "I'm laughing at myself. Why am I surprised that Dumbledore would be so devious in my first year. Look at what he did my fourth and fifth." Shaking his head in amusement, Harry took a sip of his coffee.

Sighing, he slumped back in his chair, eyes glassy.

Gabrielle addressed the older members of the party, "It's been an exhausting evening. I believe we shall retire."

.oOo.

It was a long night for Gabrielle. It was barely nine o'clock when they retired, but Harry was dead asleep by nine fifteen. She had thought he might want to make love, but his mental and emotional exhaustion was complete.

She covered him with the sheet of their bed after Vanishing his clothes. Having the time, she took a long bath, hoping the warm water would leech the anxiety and fear from her body. The longer she sat in the overlarge tub, the more she realized that soapy water was not the solution for her problem.

Drying off and wrapping the thick terry bathrobe about her, she pocketed her wand and stepped out on to the terrace. Each suite had its own private terrace and the Potter's terrace overlooked the city. Cooking a dish of mint tea from the suite's kitchen area, she sat there and sipped.

Doing her best to be logical, to assert a level of control over her fear, she began to analyse her situation. Twenty minutes later, after some scribbling on the hotel's stationary, she concluded that in the end, only Voldemort's death would release her. Would release her husband. That's what she wanted most. Sighing, she drank off her tea. Fear began to creep into her mind, building up in the dark corners, breeding in the dank. With no warning, she found herself shaking as terror engulfed her. Voldemort was the most brutal, cunning and powerful dark wizard in a score of centuries and her bond mate was chosen to destroy him. She couldn't lose him; didn't want to go on without him. Without him, all was lost.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath. Walking into the bedroom, she sat next to Harry's side of the bed and watched her sleeping mate.

Like a touchstone, she found herself calming while in his presence. It was completely illogical, yet she felt…no, she _knew_ that everything would work out. It would be hard, it would be painful. People they loved might be hurt or heaven forbid, die. However, in the end, she and Harry would not only survive but also triumph.

She shed the bathrobe and crawled into bed next to him. As she began to fall asleep, Gabi prayed that she was right.

.oOo.

The next day was slow to start. While Harry and Gabrielle took their time, Sirius and Hestia had set off after breakfast to see some sights. Harry was dressing after a long shower when it happened. He stopped after buttoning up his pants, balled up his shirt and threw it across the room.

With a muted roar of frustration, he pounded his fists into their bed. His face contorted with emotion, Harry raged at his lot in life. Pain from long ago surged forth, demanding his attention at long last. His parents loss, living with the Dursleys, the pain of his 'adventures' at school, the Tournament and Voldemort's rising. All of it came to a head filling him up with pain, resentment and anger. Beating the bed with frustration, tears of fury dripped down his face. Gabrielle let him vent for a minute or two. The bed was rippling from his uncontrolled magical discharge and the pounding of his fists. She slowly approached him and tentatively reached out her hand.

His head snapped in her direction, eyes blazing and teeth bared. For a short second, he held her gaze and the rage at his situation could have boiled over on to her. Then he blinked and Harry was once again in control. The rage was replaced by sorrow, and instead of fire in his eyes, they began to brim with tears.

"Why?" he asked in a child's voice.

Mutely, she shook her head and took him in her arms. He wasn't crying as she held him; he just sat there in her arms, limp and yielding. Finally, he wiped his face and sighed.

"Thanks, love."

She continued to cuddle him and he leaned against her. Eventually, they drifted off to sleep. An hour or so later, they woke feeling refreshed.

The Potters took their time so that their day was relaxing as they wandered hand-in-hand through Florence. For Harry, the splendour of the Renaissance's foremost city paled in comparison to Gabrielle's unearthly loveliness. In later days, he was sure they said less than fifty words to each other throughout the day. Just being together was a balm for his soul. It was an odd thing to think of recuperating from the news of the prophecy that tied him to Voldemort, but that is just what he needed.

After lunch, Harry pulled his wife into the Basilica di Santa Maria del Fiore with it's well known massive red dome. Fortunately, he was wearing trousers and she a long skirt so they weren't hindered from entering. Just as they were about to go in, Gabrielle noticed the doors and stopped. The massive bronze doors were works of art unto themselves.

Inside, they both stopped in stunned awe.

"I've never seen a building this large. Notre Dame is huge, but not so illuminated. This looks much bigger," Gabrielle whispered to Harry in French.

"You should go to St. Peter's in Roma," an old Italian woman mentioned as she walked by them, dipping her hand in the Holy Water basin before making the sign of the cross.

They slowly moved through the basilica, past the fresco of Dante and the Divine Comedy, the Trompe l'oeil of Tolentino before Harry stopped and gazed upon the fresco of the Final Judgement under the dome.

The massive work of art was somehow fitting for his mood. The more he thought about his 'destiny' the more he could identify with the figure in the painting. He was beginning to believe that his role was to mete justice upon Voldemort for his crimes. Not the role of the Divinity. Despite Snape's assertions to the contrary, he wasn't so arrogant as to assume that role.

Harry felt the role of the Archangel more fitting to his circumstance. Voldemort had condemned himself by his actions; Harry was merely an instrument of justice. Just as Michael had been the tool of God in flinging the unrepentant Lucifer from Heaven, so too was Harry to smite the unrepentant Voldemort from this world. Sighing internally, he commented, _Now I just have to accomplish that not so insignificant _task. As Harry stood stock still, drinking in the image, he felt Gabrielle sidle up to him.

The multitude of stain-glass windows spread dappled multicoloured sunlight on the floor causing living paint to edge across the floor as the sun transited the heavens. Harry stood in the apse, completely silent, and began to feel himself fill up with the courage he had lacked. He hadn't realized it before, but he'd felt empty, as if he'd been drained of love, courage, affection and all the good things in life.

It had been much worse than a Dementor's presence. For he not only had felt the helplessness and despair of the Dementor, but unlike a Dementor's magically induced despair, Harry couldn't break out of it by himself. He had needed someone or something outside himself to help him. Gabrielle. She had been there when all else was lost. Blindly, he reached out for her hand. He never doubted that she would be there.

Turning to his wife, he regarded her seriously. Her deep blue eyes met his green and he smiled. His first real smile since the evening before.

The fear that had gripped Gabrielle's heart since the night before began to ease its icy grip. He was coming back to her. All would be well.

.oOo.

The rest of their stay in Florence was very low key. Sirius did not resurrect the topic of the prophecy nor Voldemort, neither did Harry speak of it. They both knew that Harry needed some time to come to terms with the idea, yet Harry was grateful for his godfather's presence and told him so.

Harry and Gabrielle headed back to White Rock at the end of the week. They had thrashed out whom, if anyone, they would tell about the prophecy. "For now, we won't tell anyone. I'm still very overwhelmed by the whole thing. Eventually we'll tell your parents and Fleur. Probably Hermione, too. Outside of them, I don't know."

She had conceded the point but was very curious when Harry pulled her father aside when returning home. _What are they discussing?_ Henri appeared to be surprised by Harry's request, but acquiesced with an approving expression. They headed to the library to continue the topic, leaving a frustrated Lady Potter behind.

Once the men entered the Library, Marie turned to her daughter and without preamble asked, "What happened?"

Gabrielle had been expecting this. Her mother was very astute and in tune with those whom she loved. Something as monumental as the prophecy had affected the Potters so greatly that Gabrielle knew her mother would twig it immediately. Therefore, she gave the answer she and Harry had agreed upon.

"Something of great moment that I am not at liberty to discuss." When her mother opened her mouth to attempt to persuade her daughter, Gabrielle pre-empted her, "Please, Mama. Respect our privacy and do not pry."

Marie blinked, regarded her daughter as if she'd never seen her before and blinked again. Slowly a smile crawled across her beautiful face. Taking her daughter's face in her hands, Marie kissed Gabrielle's brow before embracing her. "I love you, Angel. I will not pry."

As her mother walked away, Gabrielle heard her mutter to herself, "My baby is all grown up."

.oOo.

The next morning she found out what her husband and father had been discussing.

"Pack enough for a week on the boat. I've already packed my things and am headed down to give Blinken some orders for foodstuffs."

Gabrielle regarded her husband with an amused smile, "Feeling rather full of yourself after being underway for a whole day."

He gave her an abashed smile and replied, "What better way for me to get my head on straight than to spend a week working the _Lady Marie_ and making love to you on deck every chance I get?"

Gabrielle laughed, delightedly. This was more like the Harry she knew and loved. "I shall be ready in a moment, Captain."

She spun about and hurried into their dressing room. Behind her, she heard Harry's amused laughter as he headed down to the kitchens.

They were underway on a long reach out of the bay just after lunch. As a precaution, Henri had charmed thin necklaces as portkeys for them. "Just in case," he smiled as he handed them to Gabrielle. She kissed him and bounced down to the dock where Harry was stowing their dunnage under Marie's guidance.

The weather was marvellous as they rode the light breeze out to sea at an even four knot pace. The deck was slightly tilted, the sun bright and hot as Harry piloted the _Lady Marie_ on a Southeast by South heading, bearing generally toward Corsica.

Their plan had been to take a week to float the waters of the Mediterranean, bake under the sun and enjoy each other's presence. It was the first time in months that they'd been truly alone with each other and both were looking forward to the time.

The morning of the second day out began with amusement. They had made a good offing the day before, clearing the commercial shipping lanes that ran up and down the coast from Nice to Marseilles. Deciding they were in no rush, Harry had reefed the sail and hove to overnight.

Gabrielle had awoken as he rolled out of their shared bunk. After brushing her teeth, a touch of Veela magic had replaced the need for a shower, so she followed him on deck. As her head cleared the coaming, she saw Harry strip down mother naked and dive into the sea.

She couldn't help herself and began laughing.

Harry broke the surface, spouting water. He smiled at his wife and beckoned to her. "The water is wonderfully warm. Come on in."

Gabi did a quick scan of the horizon and found nothing. Shaking her head ruefully, she pulled her top over her head.

.oOo.

They got underway late that day. Harry had been insatiable after their morning swim, so Gabrielle was drowsing on a deck chair forward when he called out, "Underway!"

She squinted up and saw that he had set the sail by himself, no mean feat in a vessel this size, and was bearing up into the wind on a southerly course. The wind was light so the hull was just cutting the sea, generating the hissing sound that sailors love to hear.

Ten minutes or so later, he joined her on the forecastle. Henri had taught Harry a few charms that made sailing the boat much easier with a reduced crew. He settled in his chair, casting one more Warning charm that would sound if a vessel closed to within five miles of them.

Reaching out for Gabrielle's hand, he found it easily and they relaxed.

"I love you, my Gabi."

.oOo.

Relaxation. Love in the sun. Heavy storms late at night.

Gabrielle helped her husband learn the ins and outs of a sailing vessel across the days. By the time the rain squall hit near midnight of their fourth day out, Harry was a fairly competent sailor. There is something to be said for learning the ways of the sea in a howling storm in the middle of the night.

Streaming water, he came below wearing a large smile, "I didn't know it could be that dark!"

Gabrielle smiled and cast a quick Drying charm on him followed by a Warming charm. "Well?"

Harry rolled his eyes, "Yes, Captain." Picking at the snacks from the galley, he elaborated, "All is battened down and secured. I doubled up the tie downs on the dinghy, as well as, secured the boom. We should be snug as a bug in a rug."

Gabrielle raised her eyebrows in amusement and without comment, opened the hatchway to head on deck. Ten minutes later, she returned streaming water. Harry returned her favour from earlier, drying and warming her.

She gave him a languid kiss, "Well done my love. I didn't have to redo anything."

Returning her kisses, he replied, "I had a wonderful teacher."

She pulled away with mock confusion, "My father?"

"Oh, you," he grumbled and taking her hand, led her to the sleeping berth.

.oOo.

They pulled into the _Lady Marie_'s berth at White Rock at sunset, one week after they departed. Their deep brown tans attested to their time on deck and the easy smiles gave proofs to the reborative powers of the sea.

"Blinken," Gabrielle called softly. The elf popped into existence right in front of her.

"Lady Potter calls," he intoned with a deep bow.

"Please, return our luggage to our bedroom and unpack for us. Are my parents at home?"

"No, milady. The Master and Mistress have gone to Paris for the theatre this evening. However, Mistress Fleur is at home with her friend, Mister Weasley."

Harry was wearing Bermuda shorts and no shirt, Gabrielle in a bikini top and short shorts. They strolled up the path, hand-in-hand chatting about their brief cruise.

"Would you like to do that again?" he asked.

"Most definitely," she replied.

He nodded and declared, "Then we shall purchase our own boat before returning to school. We'll set it up so that next summer we can cruise the Aegean. What do you say? We'll name her the _Gabi._"

Her response was a kiss.

"What ho! The sailors return!" Fleur cried from the front steps of White Rock.

Gabrielle ran the last twenty yards to the house, embracing her sister. Harry muttered a call for Blinken and the elf popped in, only to pop away immediately. Harry strolled up the path, his hands in his pockets as Gabrielle and Fleur were gabbling at each other, smiles from ear to ear.

Blinken reappeared and handed Harry two long T-shirts. Harry tossed them over his shoulder and as he mounted the steps to his future summer home, Bill Weasley came out the doors.

Fleur turned to beam at the eldest Weasley son. Her movement caused a gleam to catch Harry's eye. "What's all this!" he called in mock consternation. Reaching for Fleur's hand, he turned it over to inspect the large solitaire diamond.

"Last week, Bill asked me to marry him," Fleur announced.

Pulling a confused face, Harry asked, "Did you say yes?'

They all laughed while hugs and kisses were exchanged. Surreptitiously, Harry handed his bride a T-shirt while he donned the other one himself.

Gabrielle smiled in appreciation as she covered up. She hooked her arm in her sister's and led her away, chattering at each other like birds.

Harry smiled at Bill, extending his hand while offering, "Welcome to the family, Brother."

With a wide smile, Bill replied, "Thanks, Harry. Thanks for all your help."

Harry shrugged. Bill sat on the front steps of the home, overlooking the lawn as it ran down to the sea. "How did Henri and Marie react?"

Bill nodded at the importance of the question. Fleur and Gabrielle were very independent women, but both were devoted to their parents. Unless the issue was very important to the daughters, they usually followed their parents' advice.

"They were actually quite supportive. I was surprised."

"Fleur has mentioned to Gabrielle that you've made a big effort at winning them over."

Bill smiled ruefully, "Yes, I followed the 'Harry Potter path to success with Delacour Parents'." Noticing Harry's uncomfortable expression, Bill hastened to reassure him, "Hey, mate, I'm not banging on you. Far from it. I owe our relationship to you and your efforts. I was treating Fleur as just any other girl. She isn't Susie from down the lane, nor is Gabrielle. They are the daughters of very important people and unique people unto themselves. You courted Gabrielle correctly and I tried to emulate your efforts. I mean it sincerely."

Harry relaxed at Bill's explanation. "What about the Marriage Contract?"

Bill shrugged, "I don't bring any wealth to our relationship. Fleur already told me off twice for being stupid about it." He laughed to himself as he remembered. "This morning, Henri mentioned that we would discuss it tomorrow."

"Who's the head of House Weasley?"

"My Granddad, but since the only thing I can commit to is engaging my future earnings to support my wife and any children we have, I don't see what he would have to do with it."

Shaking his head, Harry contradicted his future brother in law, "He'll need to sign it. The contract is between heads of house. You may not bring much, but Fleur will bring millions in property and gold."

Bill began to look uncomfortable which exasperated Harry. "Look, Bill. She's stinking rich, get used to it. If you have some notion that you ought to provide for all her wants and needs, you'll have to get over it. Fleur is a rich woman in her own right. Add any inheritance she comes into when her parents die, well… She makes the Malfoys look like the middle class. You do realize she'll inherit the home in Paris?"

Bill looked stunned and then panicky. "But I don't care about all that! I love her! I love how she's feisty and passionate. I love how smart she is, how knowledgeable and kind she is! I don't care about her money!"

"Which is why I am marrying you, my love."

Both men turned to see the sisters at the doors. Fleur was smiling softly and Gabrielle had a wide grin on her face. She beckoned to Harry who left the betrothed couple out front.

Raking his hand through his hair, Harry asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, mon cher. Bill needs to come to terms with Fleur's financial status, just as you told him. I think your direct approach will help the most."

Harry nodded, hoping he had done right by Bill and Fleur. "Have they set a date for the wedding? Are they even having one? We didn't."

"Fleur is thinking around Christmas. She wants Notre Dame, he wants the Burrow."

Harry snorted. Fleur Delacour being married at the Burrow was a ridiculous idea. The Weasley's were nice people and all, but it was the bride's wedding to be held at the bride's home. On top of it, was the fact that she was the daughter of Henri Delacour and there was no way he would allow his eldest daughter to be married at some hovel in Devon.

"So, Notre Dame at Christmas. I'll put it on my calendar." Gabrielle smiled, agreeing with his thought process.

.oOo.

The next day, Harry met with Scott Boras, his preliminary choice to be his sporting agent. After trading letters with Ted Tonks, Harry had decided to take his barrister's advice and treat the meeting as an interview for the internationally famous agent. Harry didn't need Boras, but Boras surely wanted Harry.

The jump from the Cote d'Azur to London was the farthest apparition that Harry and Gabrielle had attempted to date. Harry found their worries to be groundless as he soundlessly materialized in the lobby of their barrister's building. A microsecond later, Gabrielle appeared with a loud _pop_.

Scanning the building registry, they found what they were looking for and headed for suite 303; the law offices of Maturin, Tonks and Aubrey.

Harry held the door open for his wife and then followed her into the spacious and luxurious offices. The receptionist bowed them into a beautiful conference room where they found Ted Tonks bent over a pile of parchment.

As the door opened, the balding middle aged wizard looked up. An expression of real fondness crossed his face as he stood, hand extended to welcome his employers. "My Lord, my Lady, it's good to see you." Nodding to the receptionist, he dismissed her. Motioning to the chairs he elaborated, "I've all the forms for retainer of Mr. Boras ready to go, the terms you outlined as non-negotiable are inserted and the rest of the terms are blank."

As they all sat, Tonks' expression became very businesslike. "I believe, based on what you have related and also on my own research, that Mr. Boras is the best person to be your sporting representative. His reputation as one of the elite representatives is earned, as is his shark like reputation amongst the owners."

Thus began Harry's professional Quidditch career. The interview went well, Boras was only slightly surprised that he was being interviewed, but then took it as a compliment.

"For someone of your talent and fame outside of Quidditch, you'd have to be a complete ass to not interview me." He then smiled widely, "And I don't represent asses. Well, not talent less asses at least."

Boras wasn't fazed by Harry's mandate of a magical oath of secrecy, either. Again, he'd expected it. He did have a few interesting requests of his own. "If you're going to give an interview – Quidditch related or not – drop my office a note to let us know. This way, I can be aware ahead of time in case damage control is needed. It helps us all out in the long run."

Harry was very comfortable with the supremely prepared Boras. The man already had three teams lined up to sign Harry to five year deals – an unheard of contract length for Quidditch.

"Which teams show the most interest?" Gabrielle asked.

With a wide grin, Boras gloated, "All of them want your husband, milady. But Puddlemere, Ballycastle and Portree are salivating, as well as, barking for him."

As Boras and Harry signed the retainer contract, Harry explained, "My intention is to return for my Sixth year. After that," he glanced at Gabrielle, "We will most likely be leaving school."

Boras frowned, "Don't get me wrong, because I think that one more year would be a good thing to build the tension to get the best contract, but why leave before NEWTs?"

Harry frowned for a heartbeat before his expression cleared. "Oh. We'll be taking our NEWTs after our Sixth year."

This produced raucous laughter from Boras. "Beautiful. Not only is my client going to be the most sought after seeker since Josef Wronski, but he's testing out of school a full year early. Beautiful."

They left in high spirits as the barrister and agent wrangled over how to implement the image rights aspect of the contract. "Let's go see how the twins are doing with setting up the shop."

She nodded and absently took his hand, amused at Harry's high spirits. He was a bit giddy now that his professional career was beginning to take shape. _He deserves this and more._

Finding 93 Diagon Alley was easy enough. The Twins had obscured the windows as they were setting up shop, so Harry banged on the door to get their attention.

"Potter Lord and Lordette! Come in, come in."

They entered to find a mess of boxes, empty shelves, cans of magical paint ("Will Change Colour Four Times Daily for Ten Years!") and various other 'things' that they couldn't identify. Based on the smell some of the boxes were emitting, they didn't want to know.

"Freddo's in the back making up a batch of snack boxes. Best to leave him alone at this stage. Ginny interrupted him once and they didn't turn out well. Turned our testers purple with tentacles sprouting out of their ears. Ugly, very ugly."

The door to the back room opened, allowing a bluish vapour to escape. Fred Weasley's slightly obscured visage emerged from the back room using the Bubblehead charm as a magical respirator.

"Harry! Gabrielle!" his greeting was muffled by the charm.

Rolling his eyes, George ended the charm on his brother and the four friends chatted, catching up on recent events.

"…so after the barristers checked over the contracts, we signed on the proverbial dotted line," Fred explained.

"We're going to be honest-to-goodness professional Quidditch beaters," whispered George in awe. He shook his head when the others began laughing. "Sorry, it still sneaks up on me once in a while."

Fred took a big bite out of an apple and chewed thoughtfully. "To business for a moment. We've hired two 'product makers' as we're calling them. Ravenclaws, the lot."

"We've also hired four people to work the shop. They'll be here later to help stock shelves and whatnot if you want to stick around to meet them."

Harry shook his head, "I think we'll stay as silent partners."

George shrugged his shoulders and took his brother's apple, finishing it in three swift bites.

"Oh! We went on a pub crawl with Ollie," Fred announced.

"Amazing the quantities of alcohol the man can ingest and not die," muttered George.

"He said that the public relations crew from the League offices contacted him about the '93 Gryffindor team," continued Fred

Harry's face screwed up in puzzlement. "What do they want with us?"

"After your little assertion to Darcy in Quidditch Illustrated that we could take all comers, they want to have an exhibition match between us and a pro team. All proceeds go to charity," Fred finished with a smile.

Gabrielle began to laugh. The situation was too much. It seemed that Harry couldn't turn around without riches falling into his lap. Her expression shifted quickly as she remembered the discussion the first night in Florence. The curses came as well, though.

"Who do they want us to play?"

"Well, Caerphilly is the reigning League champs so I doubt we'd play them."

Harry's face blanched and he muttered, "Good Lord, I hope not."

"Probably a second division team. That way, if we win no one takes us seriously. If we lose, it's no great account either."

"That is ridiculous," Gabrielle observed. "Angelina and Alicia have offers from at least the Harpies."

"Who they signed with yesterday," Fred interrupted.

Nodding as Fred helped make her point, "You two have signed with Puddlemere and Harry could sign with anyone. Oliver has been on United's roster for a year. Katie will most likely get an offer next year. The team will destroy any opposition."

The three players blushed under her praise. "Thanks for your confidence, but I think it won't be that easy."

"Why not? Have you had any real challenge at Hogwarts in the last two or three years?" the Veela asked.

Thinking about it, Harry responded for all three, "Not really, no."

"We're going to bleedin' crush them," whispered George.

"Your fuckin'-A," Fred echoed in the same tone.

Harry laughed at the twins antics. "So when and where? I assume Oliver will arrange practices and whatnot."

"Dunno, he wasn't really aware of his surroundings when we talked."

"Something to do with a barrel of Kilkenny Ale."

"Ah. Well, I'll send him an owl to find out what the what is."

Gabrielle had a thoughtful expression on her face. When Harry gave a questioning glance, she offered, "I could ask Madame Maxime if she would allow you all the Beauxbatons Quidditch pitch to use as a practice field."

Harry leaned back on a counter, thoughtful.

"What about Puddlemere's stadium? I'm sure with three of us playing for United the GM would let us use Nelson Field." George grinned at Harry, "I'm sure he'd do anything to increase your favourable opinion of them for next year." Harry smiled at the jibe.

"What about security and press control?"

George shrugged his shoulders while Gabrielle shook her head. "Beauxbatons is a school. The grounds aren't guarded nor fenced."

Fred padded his pockets, looking for a scrap of parchment to write a note. Finding one, he muttered, "Call Ollie about using Nelson Field." To the rest of the room he announced, "Got it!"

Harry looked uncomfortable as he began, "Lads, you know how I attract trouble of the most violent kind, right?"

Fred and George both lost their jovial smiles and looked at Harry. They were halfway between confused and happy and it came across as annoyed.

"Yeah?"

"Well, anyone associated with me will have a target…" he didn't finish as a balloon filled with ink was chucked at him by Fred.

"Bugger you Potter. We're your friends, your business associates and your bloody team mates. We've known you for five years and won't walk away now because it's a wee bit difficult. Never bring this up again." As George finished with his demand, Harry opened his mouth to speak, but was unable to make a sound.

Turning to Fred, Harry glared at the stocky red-head for being Silenced. Shaking his head, Fred said, "I agree with Georgie. Bollocks to that talk. Now, on to important matters," he turned to Gabrielle, "Do you happen to have any friends that are as beautiful and drop dead gorgeous as you and your sister? Preferably red-headed?"

Gabrielle couldn't help it; she burst into laughter, which surprised Harry. He expected anger or aloofness at the question. That would have been her reaction if Fred had been serious. However, Gabrielle recognized the question for what it was; a humorous attempt to divert Harry from embarrassing them again. She hoped.

"It depends," she forced out between giggles that wouldn't abate.

"On?"

"How much cosmetic surgery you are willing to undergo," and her laughter returned full force. She rarely got one over on Fred and George and was determined to savour the small victory.

.oOo.

The Twins took the Potters out to lunch. As Fred held open the door for everyone, Harry asked, "How's your family?"

"Well, you know about Bill and Fleur. Charlie's still doing his draconian gig, Percy's an idiot. Come to think of it, so is Ron. Ginny is…well, she's Ginny."

As they sat, Gabrielle asked, "What do you mean, 'Ginny is Ginny'?"

Fred rubbed the back of his neck and glanced at his brother. George shrugged so Fred responded, "Ginny's never been the same after her first year."

Harry snorted in sarcastic amusement, "Who would be?"

Fred nodded, acknowledging the point, "Well, she's just getting a bit more eccentric."

"Like how?"

"It's hard to explain if you didn't know her before."

"Mate, she was ten before her first year."

George shook his head, "Look, she's just different. More quiet, a much worse temper and, well, she's a bit scary sometimes.

"She get's this look in her eye. Just gives me the shivers."

Harry was a bit confused, but decided not to press. The youngest Weasley had ranged between annoying and a non-entity the entire time he'd known her, the Chamber notwithstanding.

Gabrielle's kind nature was stirred, but followed Harry's lead and didn't pursue the discussion further. "What else is going on? We've been out of the news loop for the last two weeks."

The server took their order, returning shortly with drinks all around. "Well, there have been a lot of attacks," George informed them with a serious expression.

"Yeah, like one a day. They're mixing in Muggle hunting with attacks on magical locations."

"Any arrests?"

Fred shrugged as he dug into his appetizer, "A few. They did get Bellatrix Lestrange two days ago. Everyone was pretty excited about that one."

"Oh?"

"She was caught trying to break into the Minister's residence. They caught her and two other wankers. Gave 'em all the kiss yesterday."

Harry was pleasantly surprised. Lestrange was supposed to be one of the most important weapons in Voldemort's arsenal. To have her permanently off the streets was a major victory for government. So why wasn't Amelia Bones crying this to all and sundry?

"Neville is probably happy," Gabrielle observed. Everyone nodded in solemn agreement.

.oOo.

Summer coursework started up the next day. Harry had enjoyed his first year of Runes quite a bit, so he arranged for a Runes tutor for himself to supplement the wand-based studies they were taking. He'd told Gabrielle that his goal was to catch up to her and Hermione for next year. It surprised both him and his wife that he had been so enamoured of the study.

"Though, I shouldn't be surprised," he muttered as they lay in bed. "I did pick up French rather quickly."

"Because you had the inducement of my parents over the horizon," his wife murmured as she cuddled up to his side.

"True." He lay their, revelling in the morning land breeze wafting through the open windows, the closeness to his wife and the prospect of more lessons starting in a few hours. "Oh well, two out of three ain't bad," he muttered to himself.

He threw his legs over the side of the king sized bed and wormed out. Pulling a set running shorts and socks out of a drawer, he shouted to his wife, "Up and at 'em Potter!"

Approximately 1.7 seconds later, a Stinging hex impacted his naked left buttock.

"Ow! Hey, what the…Ow! Stop it!"

Gabrielle had a wicked grin as she repeatedly cast the Stinging hex at her naked husband. "Say sorry!" she commanded in a sing-song tone.

"I'm sorry! Ow! Now stop it! Please!"

Giggling, she muttered the counter curse to the hex, causing all the red wheals to disappear.

He scowled at her, "That wasn't funny."

"Maybe from where you're sitting it wasn't. From over here it was very funny."

He tossed her running shorts, a singlet and bra combo, and socks at her. "Come on, you. We need to get our run in before breakfast."

As they stretched on the lawn, Gabrielle asked, "Do you think we should return to Hogwarts or execute a transfer to Beauxbatons?"

Harry was quiet as he touched his toes. After a thirty-count, he exhaled loudly and began to stretch out his calves. "I'm of two minds. Our friends – our very close friends – are at Hogwarts. The Quidditch League will want me to play in Scotland. McGonagall and especially Flitwick will privately teach us. Dumbledore and Snape are both gone. All those are to the positive.

"But at Beauxbatons, we're out of the way of Voldemort. Maybe."

He paused, reviewing his points silently. "What do you want to do?" he asked.

"I think I want to go back to Hogwarts."

"Really?"

"Yes. I think it will be best for us in the long run. Academically, professionally and personally I believe it will benefit us to be at the Castle versus the Palace." With deft movements, she plaited her hair.

"What about Voldemort?" he asked.

With a wry grin, Gabrielle set off down the path. Over her shoulder she called, "That's why we put in so much effort to have Amelia Bones installed as Minister!"

When they returned from their run, Harry penned a note asking (or maybe requiring) for information regarding Hogwarts security for the upcoming school year.

The first day of their summer training wasn't too bad. Beaucourt was still a maniac, though. He made them swear on their magic that they were who they professed to be, then attacked them, forcing them to shield.

Madame LeCroix and Monsieur Trevail discussed their education for the previous year at Hogwarts. LeCroix summed it up admirably, "Filius Flitwick is a master of charms and all that title implies. He has his specialty, though, just as I do. I will write to him and lay out a little plan that I have. I shall focus on animating and illusions, which leaves elemental work and defence specialty charms to him."

Harry's Runes tutor jumped in the first day and didn't let up for the next three months. However, by the end of the summer Harry took his Runes O.W.L., passing with an Exceeds Expectation.

By the end of the week, Harry and Gabrielle were back in the routine of the high intensive study schedule. They were relaxing on the sofa in their suite, him reading Charms and she Transfiguration, when Fleur knocked on the door. "I'm coming in! Get decent!"

The Potters rolled their eyes and with a mischievous expression, Gabrielle groaned, "Oh Harry!"

Stifling laughter, Harry moaned, "Oh, Gabi!"

They couldn't see her, but the sound of Fleur's footsteps stopped. A second later, she muttered, "I'll come back later."

This pronouncement generated peals of laughter from the youngest couple in the house. Fleur followed it by poking her head around the corner and seeing her sister and brother in law laughing (fully clothed). Harry learned a few new curses in French from the subsequent diatribe.

Finally, Gabrielle calmed and waved her hand, "Peace, sister. Why did you come up here?"

Pouting a little at her embarrassment, Fleur said, "Bill and I wanted to know if you would like to come to dinner and the cinema with us tonight."

"That sounds great!" Harry responded. Gabrielle nodded her head enthusiastically. "What time do you want to leave?"

"We have dinner reservations for six and there is an eight thirty showing of 'The Birdcage' that we thought we could see."

Harry glanced at the clock on the bureau and muttered, "Gives us an hour to get cleaned up." Shooing his sister in law out of the room he said, "Now, we _are_ going to get naked, out you go."

The Potters' relationship with the prospective-Weasleys began to grow and change into one of four adults who held each other in high regard.

.oOo.

Two weeks later, the family was invited to a party being held on a yacht in nearby Nice.

"The hostess styles herself as the Grand Duchess Volska. Her great grandmother held the title when the Bolsheviks overthrew the Tsar." Marie's raised eyebrows told Harry and Gabrielle her opinion of the 'Grand Duchess'.

A thought occurred to Harry, "A magical person with a muggle title?"

Marie had an amused expression on her face when she answered his question with a question. "Think about what you just said, Baron Potter."

"Ah."

"Yes."

The invitation had included a portkey so around eight thirty, the household gathered in the entry hall. The six members of the household were dressed casually, but their wealth was obvious. Harry was glad to see that Bill was relaxed and at ease as he and Marie talked about Egypt and the Middle East in general.

"Come, we must away," called Henri.

A sudden fear struck Harry. How did they really know where the portkey was going to take them?

Gabrielle noticed his hesitation at touching the brass ring that had been sent by the Grand Duchess. Grasping the difficulty, she whispered, "Would you like the others to go ahead and then send Bill back to guide our apparition?"

Scowling at himself, Harry shook his head and grabbed the ring. Nodding to his father in law, he braced himself. A quick wand touch and a muttered, "Activate," from Henri and they were away.

It was a tense Harry Potter who arrived on board _The Nicholas and Alexandra_. No one noticed, but Harry's wand was in his hand, held discreetly behind his leg. Quickly glancing around, he saw that the situation was as it had been represented; a high society party on a luxurious yacht. They had arrived on what passed for the quarterdeck of the modern vessel. There was a middle-aged woman all done up in silks and satins with far too many jewels on her body standing nearby. "Must be the Grand Duchess," Harry murmured to Gabrielle as he replaced his wand in its Disillusioned wrist holster.

Henri and Marie led the way to the hostess, but at the last moment held back, allowing Harry and Gabrielle to approach first. Gabrielle had coached Harry regarding the etiquette of the moment so he was armed.

"My lady," he began. "Allow me to present myself and my wife. I am Baron Potter," turning to Gabrielle he continued, "And my lovely wife, Baroness Potter." He continued on, introducing Henri and Marie next followed by Bill and Fleur.

"Oh, it is so good to meet you my Lord," the woman simpered in an obviously affected Russian accent. Marie had told him the woman was as French as she was. Harry refrained from rolling his eyes and focused on smiling benignly at the pretentious, but fabulously rich, woman.

After they finally escaped, Harry gathered up two glasses of wine. Handing one to his wife, he muttered, "Why are we here?"

She smiled, "To see and be seen. To have some fun. To dance the night away," she nodded to the helicopter pad aft as she mentioned this last item. A small orchestra was set up and playing. Harry immediately set down his drink – he could take a hint – and asked, "Milady Potter, would you do me the distinct honour of dancing the next with me?"

Eyes fluttering in humour, she responded with a curtsey and, "It would be my distinct pleasure, milord."

They laughed together and headed aft. Melding together, they found that their dancing practice from fourth year was not forgotten. A Viennese waltz began and they proceeded to move together to the elegant and stately strains. Laughing, they chatted with their family and from some of the people they had met over Christmas.

"Watch out, mon cher," Gabrielle whispered to him. "You're on the verge of having fun."

He very discretely blew a raspberry at her in response.

A couple bumped into them from behind Harry. Harry gave a good-natured, "Excuse me," and led Gabrielle to a less crowded area of the dance floor. He was smiling at her previous teasing, but quickly frowned when he saw her new expression.

Gabrielle was scowling at the couple who had bumped into them. Scowling as she had at Dumbledore and Snape. Furrowing his brow, he turned to see a middle-aged couple, well to-do if their clothes were any indication. They were sneering at the Potters and looking at them with the utmost distaste.

Turning back to his wife, he asked, "Who are they and what's their problem?"

Taking her eyes off the offensive couple, Gabrielle answered, "I don't know and I don't know."

"Whatever. Ignore them." Continuing in a jovial tone, he said, "You are the most beautiful woman on the dance floor in the arms of the most handsome man on the dance floor. Bask – nay revel – in our magnificence."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and laughed softly. His mission accomplished, he pulled her close and danced her even farther away from the rude couple.

Harry was dancing with Fleur and Gabrielle with Bill when he heard a man with a London accent ask, "What is a pureblood doing dancing with a beast? Aren't you a Weasley?"

Harry's eyes flared with instant anger, matching Fleur's expression. They turned to where their life partners were standing and saw the rude man from before, scowling at Bill and Gabrielle.

Stalking across the dance floor, Harry was almost to his wife when the man drawled, "Oh, and here comes its half-blood mate. Joy."

Harry pushed past Bill to come at the insulter of his wife. Breathing deeply to control himself, Harry took Gabrielle's hand and stared the man in the eye. Harry didn't recognize him by face, but his attitude was all Lucius Malfoy. After a long moment, the bigoted swine flinched. Harry uttered a low voiced threat, "You will apologize to my wife and future brother in law, _sir_."

"Or what, boy?" The casual use of Vernon Dursley's favourite epithet incensed Harry beyond reason.

"Or I will have satisfaction from you. Pig."

Gabrielle tugged his arm and whispered, "Don't lose your temper. Not like you did with Dumbledore."

Vividly, Harry remembered the previous fall when he had reacted with disproportionate force to his former Headmaster's behaviour. He'd seriously hurt the man and regretted his violence deeply. Taking a deep breath, Harry began to calm and gave her a quick nod to let her know he was under control again.

Sneering, the man hissed, "Listen to your half breed bitch, boy." He moved closer to Harry and continued, "The Dark Lord will destroy her first. Right in front of you, most likely. Then he will have you."

That was enough for Harry. He lashed out with his right fist and hearing the satisfying _crunch_ as his jab impacted the man's nose had the joy of knowing that he had broken said proboscis.

Fortunately, the offensive man in front of him this evening was a bully. Like all bullies, he succumbed to real strength. Nearly snarling, the man grabbed his companion's arm and headed for the quarterdeck.

He only progressed two steps before a slim hand slapped the offensive man across the face, causing blood to splatter across his companion's dress. Fleur stepped into the breach and in a tight, strained voice she said, "My brother in law is too noble to give you your just desserts, as you should be horsewhipped. Therefore, I will convey my displeasure for your behaviour against my sister, his wife. Be gone! And If I ever see you again, I shall not be so gentle."

The man fled the ship, the cut on his face from the diamond in Fleur's ring added to the not inconsiderable flow of blood from his nose.

Harry watched the man's retreating back and only when he and his wife apparated away did he notice his surroundings. The musicians had stopped playing, all the guests were watching them in horrified silence, their hostess was on the verge of apoplexy and Marie's face was white, she was so enraged at the now unmasked pureblood bigot. Henri was holding her arm, but he too was obviously incensed.

Gabrielle took Harry in her embrace. Only then did he realize that he was shaking as the adrenaline flushed out of his system. "I'm sorry," he whispered.

She pulled back, looking at him in disquiet. Glancing about, she led him off the dance floor to a semi-private area by the rescue netting. "What are you sorry about, mon cher?"

"I should have defended you better."

Gabrielle rolled her eyes and gave him a lighthearted punch on the shoulder. "You did the right thing. By staying calm, you kept from seriously hurting the man. I know you were enraged and if you had lost control, either magically or with your fists, you could have killed him, given your anger. I also know that you very much wanted to hurt that fool. I'm very proud of you for knowing when to hold back."

He shrugged as she lightly kissed him. "Monsieur Potter, I believe you owe me a dance still."

Harry smiled and allowed himself to be led back to the dance floor. They were intercepted by Marie, her expression one of cold fury, "Come, we are leaving."

Minutes later, the family of six appeared in the entry hall of White Rock. "Family meeting in the library," Marie commanded as she led the way.

Gabrielle turned to her father in order to get a hint at what was the trouble, but saw his face a mask. Henri's emotions were under better control than his wife's. Nevertheless, it was obvious that he was just as upset as Marie was.

Harry assumed the topic for the family meeting was the confrontation earlier and his embarrassing behaviour. Once again, he'd lost his temper and resorted to violence when insulted. When Gabrielle took his hand, he smiled sadly at her, not trusting his voice to remain steady if he said anything.

Despite all the evidence to the contrary, he was waiting for Marie and Henri to turn on him. True, they had taken him into their hearts from the first meeting. They'd never had a harsh word for the young Briton and had only been encouraging and loving. The last year and a half must have been a dream, he concluded gloomily. The other shoe was about to drop and he would be shunned and turned out because he was a freak.

"What is wrong?" Gabrielle whispered as they sat next to each other on a loveseat.

Plastering a smile on his face, Harry shook his head hoping this would put her off long enough to get through his expected pasting.

With dread like a lump of pig iron in his belly, he heard Marie clear her throat. Looking around the room, he saw that Fleur was sitting in a wingback chair with Bill over her shoulder. Surprisingly, the usually easy-going Weasley's expression was murderous. Glancing at Henri, who leaned on his desk as Marie sat in a chair net to him, he saw that Delacour pere was extremely unhappy as well.

"I talked with the Grand Duchess about that…_individual_…who accosted us tonight," Marie began. "His name is Peter Yaxley. I do not know him personally, but apparently his family supported the Dark Lord during his last rise." Her eyes narrowed as she hissed, "That stupid cow knew this and still invited a Death Eater to her soiree. I informed her that she was no longer welcome in any of our homes."

"Ever," echoed Henri.

Harry's eyebrows lifted. The 'Grand Duchess' would be shunned from polite society now. The Delacours would very discreetly nose the word about the odd woman's behaviour. Being the very powerful persons they were in French politics and society, the Grand Duchess Volska would be relegated to that group of fools that have more money than sense. She would be rarely invited to a gathering of import and most of her invitations refused by people who mattered. For a person with nothing besides her society connexions, this was a death sentence and the Delacours knew it.

"Harry," Marie began as she turned to the Potter Lord.

Harry sighed and tried to look away, but couldn't. _Here it comes_.

"You have proven yourself time and time again as the best person for our Angel and you did it once again tonight. You have our thanks," she glanced to Henri who took her hand, "And our love."

Completely taken aback, Harry stared open mouthed at his mother in law. "But..."

Confused, Henri asked, "But what?"

Gabrielle sighed and jabbed her husband in the ribs. "Papa, Harry has this odd idea that he should have done more tonight. In addition, he feels that the whole incident was his fault in the first place. Even with his extraordinary confidence and bravery for the outside world, he…"

She tailed off at the expression of hurt on Harry's face. Ashamed of herself for voicing his most private of fears, she leaned into him and whispered, "I'm sorry. Please, forgive me."

Harry squeezed her hand with absolution in his heart. How could he not forgive her? He loved her.

Henri nodded knowingly while Marie smiled even more brightly at her husband. Standing, he nodded to his wife and then began walking out the door, "Come with me, Harry."

Still dazed a bit, Harry squeezed his wife's hand before rising to follow. A few minutes later, he found himself standing barefoot in the dunes next to Henri.

Henri softly called for Blinken and requested two mugs of coffee. The wind was light, but there was a coolness to it as the evening approached midnight.

Moments later, the major domo of the Delacour household reappeared with steaming mugs of coffee in each hand, proffered them to the humans and was gone.

Harry sipped the steaming brew and waited for his father in law to begin. The older man's eyes narrowed as he looked out to sea, past the surf. Eventually, Henri declared, "You take too much on yourself, my son."

Completely thrown at the manner of his address, Harry gaped yet again. With all the surprises this evening, he half-heartedly wondered if he had ever known these people at all.

Smiling, he patted his son in law on the shoulder and laughed. "You are a very good man, but take far too much on your shoulders. How could you ever begin to think that Yaxley's boorish behaviour is your fault?"

Harry shrugged and toed the sand. "If Gabrielle wasn't my wife, he'd never have said anything."

"What a steaming load of crap."

Taken aback again, Harry was on the verge of laughter. Henri never swore. _Never_.

With an amused expression, his father in law teased Harry, "I will use logic, something you are obviously unacquainted with, to show you why you are mistaken, my young son."

The more Henri called Harry 'son', the more he liked it.

Henri then began to demolish all Harry's self-inflicted guilt over the situation. A half hour later, they were discussing how the Dursley's had blamed Harry for any and all bad happenings at 4 Privet Drive. Harry agreed that this probably caused him to develop an inappropriate sense of responsibility for actions around him.

"Harry, this situation tonight, the attack on Gabrielle by that toad woman last term and all the other bad happenings are not your fault."

Wanting to believe Henri, Harry finished the remains of his coffee and nodded. He exhaled loudly as he made the decision to trust his wife's father.

Understanding started to break on the earlier indiscretion by his wife. She trusted her parents and sister. By extension, this included Bill. There was very little reserve between the family members as they had grown and evolved into the healthy adult household that he lived in during the summers. In this safe environment, she had no reservations sharing her deepest fears and therefore, Harry's deepest fears.

The problem was that Gabi hadn't asked his permission to share her observations about her husband – Harry had never given voice nor coherent thought to the situation. She obviously realized her offence, hence the immediate plea for forgiveness. Harry knew Gabrielle well enough to know that she would never repeat her wrong and decided he would not form a resentment.

Turning to Henri, he did something he had never done with an adult male. He embraced his father in law as he had always wished he could embrace James Potter.

"You are a good man, my son. Never, ever forget that."

"Thank you."

.oOo.

Whistling an old Royal Navy tune, Harry opened the door to their suite much relieved in his mind. On many levels, this had been the best evening of his life despite the odious behaviour of Mr. Peter Yaxley. His whistling died as he turned to the room and saw Gabrielle sitting on the bed. Her eyes were rimmed with red, her hair a mess and three tissues were in her hand.

Alarmed, he rushed to the bedside. Reaching out for her, he asked, "What happened?"

"I'm so sorry. I don't deserve you. I'm so, so sorry."

Relief flowed through him as he took her in his arms. Her tears had restarted causing her to shake in his arms. "Shhh, my love. I forgave you the moment you said it. Never ever, doubt how much I love you. Shhh."

He lovingly stroked her back until she calmed. After her sniffling died away, he said, "I think I understand more about you, now." Relating his discussion with Henri and his own internal realizations, he explained, "So in this environment of trust, your error earlier is similar to describing our sex life to your mother. Both are errors of indiscretion, not so much a violation of trust."

Gabrielle blushed, paled and then blushed again. In an undertone, she teased, "I would never tell my mother about how you make me scream."

Laughing, he wagged his eyebrows, "What do you say to some sweaty make up sex?"

She laughed, used her Veela powers to clean up her face and hair and responded, "I'd love it. Come to me, lover."

.oOo.

The next day was Saturday and the first day of practice for the '93 Gryffindor team. The Potters used a portkey provided by Puddlemere to travel to Nelson Field house. With a few wavering steps on landing, Harry righted himself. A shout had him turning in a flash, his wand in hand.

"Whoa, Harry. I'm a good guy," Oliver coaxed, his hands up and empty.

"Sorry," Harry muttered as he holstered his wand. "Where is everyone?"

"In the locker room."

Gabrielle gave her husband a small kiss on the cheek, "I'll be in the stands. Hermione said she was going to try to come by. Apparently her family isn't far from here."

Harry nodded and watched her walk away. His look was part admiring of her assets and part appreciative of her person. Shaking his head, he followed Oliver.

Calls rung out as Harry entered the locker room. He waved to all and returned the greetings. Two minutes later, he emerged from the men's dressing room, his Firebolt in hand.

George set down his copy of _The Beater's Bible_ and popped to his feet. Standing next to Oliver, he held his arms wide and intoned, "This is it everyone…"

The team responded, "The big one. The one we've all been waiting for."

Raucous laughter followed to which a slightly rosy Oliver only nodded. Once everyone had calmed, he began, "Seriously all. This is brilliant for us to be playing together again. Talking with the league public relations team, they've whittled it down to Wimbourne or Wigtown as our opponent."

Talk stopped as the team focused. Wimbourne was an above average team. Not as good as Caerphilly, but they were better than Puddlemere; well above the middle of the table. Wigtown was a bunch of thugs, always had been and always would be. If they played the Wanderers, Fred and George would have their work cut out for them.

"You guys have just finished up a very successful season, so we don't have to start from scratch. I talked with Angelina and she wanted me to Captain the team." For the first time in Harry's experience, he saw Oliver Wood uncomfortable when discussing Quidditch. "Is that Ok with everyone?"

Nods accompanied the Twins salaams and cries of "Of course, oh Keeper-one!"

"Right then. I've looked over the playbook…"

An hour later, the team left the locker room and headed out to the pitch.

"Wow."

Harry didn't know who said it, but it echoed his thoughts perfectly. Nelson Field was magnificent. Seating an even one hundred thousand, it was only two seasons old and had all the modern conveniences.

Mindlessly straddling his broom, Harry glanced around and noticed that all the others had Firebolts as well. He glanced questioningly at Katie, who blushed. She was the only player who couldn't afford one on her own. "Angie and Alicia got it for me with their signing bonus," she muttered and shot into the sky.

Soon Harry was doing seeker drills. He'd grown quite a bit since his first year, but was still very lean and wiry. Most school age seekers have to give up the position as they grow up. There are two types of seeker, the lean wiry types that Harry fit into, and the big burly men who can overpower an opponent. Viktor Krum was one of the latter.

Harry was having an incredible amount of fun darting in and out of the moving obstacle course that had been set up. It was a challenge he hadn't had in years. Smiling broadly, he accelerated past three hundred kilometres per hour and dove under the padded obstacle in front of him. After he finished the mile long course that ringed the pitch, he landed to get a drink of water.

He heard the hallooing from behind him and saw his wife and Hermione cheering. Jumping on his broom, he coasted up to them in the stands. "Hey there!" he said to his bushy haired friend.

"Hermione and her parents are coming to visit next week," Gabrielle informed him with a smile.

"Excellent!"

"So this match is when?" Hermione asked.

"Well, we don't have a date yet, but it looks like it will be near the end of summer. The league wants to use our match as a pre-season match to kick start the season."

Hermione nodded and then shifted gears, "So tell me about this wonderful party you two were at last night."

Harry rolled his eyes before recounting the tale. At the end, he turned to Gabi and asked, "Bill was pretty angry when your dad and I left. Did you find out what was wrong?"

Gabrielle smiled grimly. "I wouldn't want to be Monsieur Yaxley should he run across Bill Weasley." It turned out that Bill had been so taken aback by the man's boorish behaviour that he couldn't react the way he wanted to – by punching the man unconscious.

"He is very embarrassed that he froze and that you had to deal with the situation."

Harry furrowed his brow at the silliness of the statement. Gabrielle poked him in the ribs and reminded him, "It's as silly as what you were thinking."

He gave a short laugh, "True."

The friends chatted about various aspects of the Potters summer tutoring before Oliver called, "Potter! Full on chaser drills!"

"Gotta go," he pecked Gabrielle on the cheek. "See you next week," he shouted to Hermione as he flew away.

Gabrielle watched her husband dart through the sky to practice unsighting the keeper in a 3 on 1 chaser attack. "He's such a little boy when he's on a broom."

Hermione only laughed in response.

.oOo.

Their practice schedule was a bit like their schedule when at Hogwarts. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday evenings from six until usually nine followed by a nine until one practice on Saturday. Many times, Harry looked down to find scouts and other personnel watching the '93 Gryffindor team practicing.

He met Gwenog Jones when she came to talk to her newest chasers. Alicia and Angelina were still rookies enough to be star-struck by the veteran beater and Captain of the Harpies. Harry couldn't manage much beyond, "Pleased to meet you."

Oliver tried some of his smoothest pickup lines that left his teammates laughing – Gwenog had punched him after his first failed attempt ("Hey, what do you say we grab a bottle of firewhiskey and go inspect each other's Quidditch abs?"). Harry had laughed, "You got lucky, Oliver. She didn't turn you into a wood louse."

Gabrielle had patted Oliver's cheek after he was revived, "Oliver, you may be an excellent keeper, but you need quite a bit of work with women."

Classes continued apace. Harry was pushing himself harder than he'd ever done when it came to his studies. Sirius had told him that Voldemort knew of the prophecy. Based on that premise, the more he thought about it, the entire pattern of his life now made sense. Of course, Voldemort had wanted to destroy Harry as soon as possible. So all the attacks by the Dark Lord from the time Harry was a year old were driven by Voldemort's belief in a damnable seer who may or may not be reliable.

It didn't matter if the seer was completely reliable or not, he realized. Voldemort believed in the veracity of the prophecy, which was the vital issue. That being so, the madman wouldn't stop until one of them was dead. In the dark of the night as he lay in bed listening to Gabrielle's soft breathing, the idea scared him witless that he had to destroy the darkest wizard since had Morgana terrified fledgling Britain.

He was doing quite well in Transfiguration and had looked forward to this last week. Unfortunately, the test that Monsieur Travail performed on him came back negative: Harry didn't have the ability to be an Animagus. When he'd related the story of Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs to Monsieur Travail, the French Transfiguration master was stunned that the three (then) friends had all been able to achieve the transformation.

It'd been an awkward letter to write to Sirius. His godfather had dropped a few hints here and there about Harry carrying on the Marauder tradition and the like. Harry was disappointed that he couldn't do it. In a strange way, he felt like he was letting down his father and godfather. He'd sulked for a few days until Gabrielle cornered him and forced him to tell her what was on his mind. When he finally came clean, he found he'd earned himself a mild bollocking from his wife. Gabi had reminded him that less than five percent of the population had the ability to achieve the transformation.

"Do I need to drag my father in here to remind you about which occurrences you are and are not responsible?"

Considering they'd just made love, were still stark naked and shimmering in sweat, Harry thought it'd be a bad idea to summon Henri. Nodding his head, he started to let go of the self-defeating notion. It wasn't easy, by any means and it was an ongoing effort for the rest of his life. Nevertheless, he made an honest beginning during what he called in later years, 'My Quidditch Summer'.

Hermione and her parents arrived the next Friday. Steven and Alice had made plans to stay at White Rock for a few days before moving on to Greece. They had decided to make a driving tour of Greece and Crete over a two-week span. They'd given Hermione the option to come with them or stay in France with her friends.

"Of course I am staying here with my best friends," Hermione informed the Potters as she explained the situation.

Gabrielle nodded in satisfaction. Although, they'd recovered somewhat the previous summer, the elder Grangers had not impressed the residents of White Rock. It was for the best they were only staying a short period. Glancing at Hermione's expression, Gabrielle could tell her friend felt the same way.

Harry had his head in Gabrielle's lap as they lay on blankets at the beach. The Potters were a deep bronze tan and Hermione was eager to catch up so she insisted they come directly to the beach for their catch up discussion.

"Hey guys?"

"Hmmm?"

"What do you say we hit the clubs in Nice tonight?"

Harry cracked an eye at his best friend, while Gabrielle merely smiled. "Sounds fun," Harry replied. "We'll invite Fleur and Bill, too." Settling back down in his wife's lap, Harry smiled serenely. "Maybe call up Sirius. He and Hestia would be fun to have as well."

Although he did want to spend more time with his godfather and the almost-Weasleys, and dancing was quite fun, Harry had a more basic reason for the invites. More wands were better when going out in public. Beaucourt had drilled them mercilessly about reactions in situation where they were outnumbered.

"The best way to avoid being outnumbered is to have more people!" he'd shouted almost every day for a week.

Hopping to his feet, Harry kissed his wife and pronounced, "I'm going to go talk to Fleur and Bill; give Padfoot a Floo call, too. I'll be back soon."

.oOo.

That evening, Harry met Fleur downstairs on the veranda, while Gabi helped Hermione dress for the evening. "Bill will be right back; he went to Gringotts to convert some Galleons."

Nodding, Harry sat next to his sister in law. A small smile grew on his face as he sat there. Glancing at Fleur, he saw a similar smile on her beautiful face. "What?" he asked with a smile.

"We've come very far, have we not?"

His smile broadened as he nodded in agreement. "We have indeed." Meeting her eye, he continued, "And I'm heartily glad of it."

Fleur's grin became a radiant smile as her estimation so obviously matched Harry's feelings of gratitude for the person sitting next to him.

"So, tell me about this earth-shattering wedding you two will have?"

Fleur let loose a deep throaty laugh. Her grin became a bit predatory as she leaned forward and declared, "Let me tell you…"

Ten minutes later, the Floo roared in the Entry Hall and the same time the ladies arrived from the guest floor. Harry side apparated Hermione, meeting the others at the apparition area of Nice's magical quarter. A quick dash through the archway exit on to the Cours Saleya and after weaving through the flower vendors, Bill hailed a taxi.

"Sirius and Hestia are meeting us there?" Gabrielle asked as Harry held open the door of a taxi for her. He nodded in response as he slid in next to her.

Fleur and Bill were in the front seat. Bill was scowling at the driver who was enjoying Fleur's close proximity far too much for the tall red head's liking. The Potters and Hermione squeezed into the back seat as the taxi shot across the less than savoury areas of the port city.

Ten minutes and a wad of cash later, they entered L'Ambassade, a nightclub for the high society of the Cote d'Azur. Some fancy wand work allowed Harry, Gabrielle and Hermione to pass by the bouncers unmolested. They entered the club to find a pounding dance beat booming, lights flashing and a sea of people dancing and moving with the rhythm.

The quintet moved to a relatively quiet area of the club to set up shop. Bill and Harry moved to the bar to fetch drinks, while the girls hopped on stools and surveyed the crowd.

When the men returned to the table, laden with beverages, Harry rolled his eyes at the conversation that was ongoing.

"Would you look at that guy? He looks like a hippogriff in heat the way he's dancing!"

"How do you know what a hippogriff in heat looks like?"

"Oh, pish. Look at the dress on her!"

"Oh!"

"Does my dress make me look that fat?"

"Good grief no! You're beautiful Hermione and we're going to find you a _man_," the last was said with a little wiggle of Fleur's head.

The resultant giggling and laughter caused Bill and Harry to exchange a look known by men worldwide. Bill adopted a mischievous expression as he moved behind his fiancée. Wrapping his arms around her, he asked Harry, "So, Harry. Tell me what you think about the idea that's being bandied about to standardize all brooms used in the British and Irish League?"

The threefold groan from the female members of the group caused both male members to cackle in laughter. Bill surreptitiously cast a Notice-Me-Not charm on the table before he led his wife out to the dance floor.

Harry was in a quandary. He wanted to dance with his wife, but also didn't want Hermione to feel left out. Glancing at Gabrielle, he raised his eyebrows in a plea for help.

Gabrielle smiled, took one more sip of her drink before she hooked her arm in Hermione's arm. "Come, we shall all dance and while you are moving your attractive body with the pulse of the music, we shall find you a dance partner that is single."

Harry had to admit that Hermione looked good this evening; even better than she did at the Yule Ball. Shaking his head at his wife's matchmaker attitude, he followed them out to the dance floor.

Forty minutes later, Harry was pouring rivulets of sweat as he and Gabrielle entwined, ground, grabbed and pulsed to the beat. She was wearing a skintight black dress that was driving him wild and she knew it. Hermione had popped off to the toilet so the couple really let loose. Harry felt Gabrielle's mouth on his neck and gasped. His hand on her hip made her whimper.

She pulled him close and whispered in his ear, "I may need you very soon husband. Very soon."

Harry nipped at her neck playfully, causing her to laugh. Hermione returned and they all danced together, enjoying the evening. Finally, they needed a break and returned to the table. Bill and Fleur were already there, standing very close and either kissing while talking, or talking while kissing. Harry never did figure out which was occurring.

As Harry was reaching for his drink, a hand came down on his shoulder. Pivoting on his left heel, he spun around with every intention of crushing his assailant's windpipe with his right fist. Fortunately, his eyes were faster than his hands. Pulling his punch, he ended up pushing the man and shouted, "Damn, Sirius! Don't do that!"

His raven-haired godfather broke up in laughter, while the blonde Hestia Jones at his side smiled broadly. "Relax, Potter. Jeez, you'd think that you were some important guy or something."

Harry's response was an extended single digit, causing Sirius to give him kissy-faces in return.

Gabrielle gave Hestia a hug and asked, "Is he always like this?"

After rolling her eyes, Hestia answered, "Oh, yes."

"It's why you love me baby."

Hestia ignored her lover as she was introduced to Fleur and Bill.

Sirius saw Hermione and smiled broadly. "Hey there! Long time no see!" He hadn't seen Hermione since she and Harry had saved him from the Dementors a few years before. Swooping her into his arms, he gave her a demonstrative hug.

Harry smiled as he watched the pair. He was beginning to get a feel for Sirius. His personality was overstated and so too was his behaviour. Big hugs, loud talking, funny pranks, incredible tirades. Except for the few times when he needed to be serious and 'adult-like', he was larger than life. Fortunately for him, those 'adult' occurrences were few and far between. At least as far as Harry could see.

A few minutes later, Sirius and Hestia ambled off to the dance floor, leaving the Potters and Hermione alone. Harry had missed Bill and Fleur's departure.

Gabrielle tapped Hermione on the shoulder and told her, "That guy is watching you."

Harry glanced in the direction that his wife had pointed. He saw a youngish man, maybe late teens or early twenties, studying his friend. Swallowing hard to avoid a scowl, Harry turned to the table and took a long draught of his drink. Out of the corner of his eye he saw his wife nod in approval at his behaviour. It was hard for him to restrain his urge to pull the man's liver from his body via his navel. Harry had known Viktor, so he hadn't wanted to pound him too much for dating his 'sister', but this clown on the other side of the club could be a bloody Death Eater as far as he knew.

Shaking his head, he turned just in time to see the dark haired pervert who was staring at his sister approach. He huffed for a moment and then turned back to the table.

"Would you like to dance?" Harry heard the guy ask Hermione.

"Yes," she answered a bit breathlessly.

He felt them move off and turned back. Just as he located the couple on the dance floor, Gabrielle was at his side. "Mon cher, you are doing very well and I intend on rewarding later you for your good behaviour."

Eyes brightening, he asked, "Really?" Harry _really_ liked Gabrielle's rewards.

She only smiled and wrapped an arm around him.

With an easy smile on his face, Harry turned back to the dance floor, a little easier in his mind.

Then it all went to hell.

Harry saw Hermione and the dark haired pervert dancing a little too close for his comfort, but decided to leave it alone. Suddenly, Hermione's dance partner whipped out a wand, pulled Hermione close and caught Harry's eye.

"We'll be in touch, Potter!" the man screamed, then activated a portkey and they were gone.

For a microsecond, Harry's mind froze in denial and disbelief. Then he exploded into action. Running to the general area that his friend disappeared from, Harry cast the Sonorous charm on himself.

"BILL! PADFOOT! TO ME!" his amplified voice bellowed. Seconds later the six of them were standing on the dance floor.

"Hermione was kidnapped via portkey," Harry summarized.

"Where?" Bill snapped.

"Right about here."

"Everyone back," Bill commanded as he drew his wand. The music continued unabated and most of the club was unaware of the disturbance. The dancers in the immediate area simply ignored the weirdoes and their sticks.

After some intricate wand movements, Bill announced, "I've got it." He conjured a plastic ring, intoned, "Portus!" and as the ring glowed blue he shouted, "Grab on!" Everyone drew their wands and touched the ring.

Gabrielle caught Harry's eye and nodded to the crowd. Harry nodded in return, drew a deep breath and slowly waved his wand in a circle overhead before shouting, "Obliviate!"

Sirius looked impressed as Gabrielle explained, "Mass Obliviation. They'll not remember the last five minutes."

A second later the six magicals disappeared from L'Ambassade.

.oOo.

The portkey deposited the group in a poorly lit warehouse. By Harry's estimation, they were less than a minute behind Hermione and her kidnapper.

"Point me Hermione Granger," he incanted.

As Harry's wand spun on his palm, Bill was checking for residue from a second portkey. The holly wand pointed to the north. After a quick shake of Bill's head, the group took off at a quick jog.

Weaving though CONEX boxes and forklifts, they stopped occasionally to see if they could hear anything. The second time they paused, right in front of them Harry heard a muffled scream followed by a man's voice cursing in pain.

Harry had to exert all of his considerable self control to keep form charging around the CONEX box. His sister. They'd taken his sister and now they were hurting her. This wasn't a capture situation anymore. They weren't the Aurors, they were rescuers and the captors were of no consequence.

There was no anger. Merely cold determination. Anger was for later.

With a hard glint of his eye, Harry tapped Sirius' shoulder. "Take Hestia and circle around to the left. I think she's on the other side of this CONEX box. We go in one minute." He paused for a quick second before adding, "No prisoners." Sirius nodded, shifted to Padfoot and led his girlfriend off to the left.

The last time Hermione had been taken from him and he had to retrieve her had been the Second Task and he swore he'd do anything to get her back. That had been a vicious fight at the bottom of the lake. The merpeople had not had the ability to revive their fallen comrades, but this scum did. It was an ability that he had no intentions of allowing them to exercise. They had taken his sister. For all intents and purposes, she was a Potter and he was going to bring the wrath of the gods on their heads.

Ten seconds later, Bill and Fleur were moving to the right. Gabrielle reached over and disillusioned Harry before repeating the spell on herself.

Harry felt her hands on his cheeks and then her invisible lips on his own. Disregarding the general weirdness of kissing his wife when he couldn't see her, he whispered, "I love you."

"And I you. Now let's go get our friend back."

They snuck around the CONEX box and saw a group of ten men. Five were wearing standard Death Eater garb: black cloaks and white masks. The rest were dressed in regular working robes. A few were amusing themselves by spitting on the bound form of Hermione. One of the captors was healing a bite wound on his hand. _She got one of them_, Harry thought to himself.

Harry's watch gave a short chime indicating the minute was up. The ten men must have thought that hell had exploded as a barrage of spellfire erupted with them in the epicentre.

A Bludgeoning curse to the neck snapped the spine of the first kill of the evening.

The dark haired kidnapper next to him was decapitated by a Cutting curse.

An overcharged Reductor curse killed two, their thoracic cavities hollowed out by the Explosive curse.

A Bone Breaking curse popped the first spitter's head like a melon.

The second spitter lasted three extra seconds before he joined his compatriots after a Piercing charm drilled a three inch hole in his head.

A Fire Whip blazed across the open area, blazing like an inferno. The two Death Eaters it captured were immolated in seconds.

The last two men fell to their knees begging, "Mercy!" they screamed.

One was reduced to jelly by a high powered Reductor and the other cut cleanly in half by a Cutting curse.

The six attackers all cancelled their disillusionments at the same time. Harry and Gabrielle ran to their friend while the other four looked for more assailants.

"I think we're done here," Sirius opined. "They were stupid and didn't expect anyone hot on their trail."

"They're criminals. By definition they're stupid," Bill responded.

"True. Did this seem too easy?"

Bill tilted his head and looked to his fiancée for her opinion. "Yes, it did seem too easy. But as you pointed out, they didn't expect anyone to follow. That tracking spell is very obscure."

They all nodded in agreement and watched the object of their pursuit.

After the ropes binding her dispelled and the Body Bind ended, Hermione burst into tears. Harry and Gabrielle held her close as the young woman broke down. A few minutes later, she began to calm so Harry asked, "Are you hurt?"

His bushy haired friend could only shake her head to which he exhaled in relief. "Good. Let's get out of here. Bill, where are we by the way?"

The eldest Weasley brother was conjuring another plastic ring as he answered, "Antwerp."

Harry glared at the corpses scattered about the area. His rage was mounting and if he could, he would have killed them all over again. A tug on his sleeve from Gabrielle reminded him what his first priority was at that moment: Hermione.

Bill held the ring out for Fleur who cast the Portkey spell for them to be returned to White Rock. Harry sighed as he and Gabrielle helped Hermione to stand. It was going to be a long night.

.oOo.

It was. By the time they returned to White Rock it was approaching one in the morning. They found one set of parents that were concerned (the French set) and one quite angry (the English set).

After a quick word from Sirius, Henri left to Floo for the Aurors as Hermione cried, "Mum, Dad!" and ran to her parents. Once more, the bushy haired witch succumbed to a crying jag. After the hullabaloo died down, Fleur gave a brief overview of the disturbing occurrences of the evening.

The Aurors arrived and questioned a sniffling Hermione. Once they finished with her, they questioned each of the party individually. Hestia sat in each questioning, giving the person being questioned subtle advice on what to answer and what not to answer. A discreet shake of the head or a nod was all that was needed. Upon request, Bill created a portkey for the authorities to the warehouse.

At this point, Harry began to worry. They'd killed ten men that evening. In addition, the circumstances in which they had done it, they could easily be charged with premeditated murder. Glancing at his wife, he caught the eye of the lead Auror. Philippe D'artagn had been fairly friendly during the investigation and appeared to be on good terms with Henri when he'd arrived.

Bill had cocked an eyebrow and asked, "D'artagn? Like…"

The dark featured man scowled and cut off the curse breaker, "If you value your good looks young man, don't finish that sentence." His features softened to a subtle smile and he added, "My father is quite aware of how much mother and I despise our name."

They all laughed, the tension of the evening ebbing a bit. "My cousin is an Auror in Britain. She hates her name too. Is this some weird Auror thing?" Sirius teased.

Auror D'artagn was less than amused.

Returning to the present, Harry cut to the chase and asked, "Should we contact our legal representation?"

At first, D'artagn was a bit baffled. Realization dawned and his expression softened. Smiling, he answered, "Well, on principle you probably should, but I doubt charges will be levied. The muggles have strict laws about posse and vigilante activities, but our laws aren't so strict. We realize that situations like this will occur where time is of the essence. The six of you acted exactly like an Auror strike force would have; I doubt there will be any legal repercussions."

As Harry gave a sigh of relief, the Auror reminded him, "I'd contact your legal representation just in case, though."

Harry nodded and turned, "Hestia? I'm officially notifying my barrister's office about this mess my godfather got me into."

They all laughed when Sirius' indignant, "What?!" echoed through the house. Most importantly, Hermione laughed.

.oOo.

The next day was Saturday. Harry slept through their normal workout time but was shaken awake by Blinken who saw nearly shouting in his upset.

"My Lord Potter must get up! Your Quidditch practice is in ten minutes!"

"Huh?" he asked in the fog of sleep. Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, he grabbed his glasses. Gabrielle stirred at his side, but didn't awaken until he shouted "SHIT!"

Five minutes later, he was dressed and had apparated to Nelson Field. Before everyone took to the sky, he grabbed Oliver and gave him a brief rundown of the previous night's events. He summed up with, "So I'm thinking we should arrange for some extra security during practice. I can pay for it, if it would make Puddlemere happy."

Oliver smiled and waved off Harry's offer. "Mate, the general manager would run starkers up and down Diagon Alley for a week if it pleased you. Don't worry about it. I'll tell him after practice…" he tailed off and looked over Harry's shoulder.

Turning, Harry saw Joe Mozeliak, the Puddlemere GM approaching. Oliver corrected himself, "Or maybe we can tell him now."

Mozeliak extended his hand to Harry and asked, "Harry, how are you?"

Returning the handshake, Harry answered, "Not so good…" and related the story yet again.

The GM frowned and Harry's stomach dropped. "This is ugly. Is your friend well?"

A bit confused, Harry answered, "She's a bit shaken up, but alright overall." Wasn't Mozeliak mad at him for the inconvenience and the possible threat?

Mozeliak gave a little shake of his head before declaring, "I'll talk to our chief of security and have the field's security beefed up for practices and the match. Don't worry, Harry. We'll take care of you and your team mates."

Harry was a bit stunned as the GM moved off to talk to Fred and George. "He's a good bloke, Harry," Oliver observed.

"Yeah, he is."

.oOo.

Practice was exhausting, but Harry expected nothing less from Oliver. He was a borderline psychotic in his sixth year regarding Quidditch. Now that someone was actually paying him to play he seemed to have slipped a gear or two and crossed the line into fully psychotic. Fortunately for all, he was one of the happy kind.

During Harry's third year when Oliver would go on one of his tirades or push them through drills again, the chasers would grumble. Fred and George would ridicule Oliver under their breath. In short, the team would follow their captain's orders but grudgingly and sometimes under half steam.

Today, that reluctance and petulance wasn't present. They were all professionals (or nearly so) and they took to their assignments with a zeal that usually wasn't present on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch. Harry was just glad to have an activity where he wasn't killing someone or saving a loved one.

By the time he stowed his broom in his locker and changed out of his practice uniform (provided free of charge by Puddlemere United), Harry was almost staggering in his tiredness. Being up until 4 AM, dealing with the Aurors and then a full practice really had him thrown for a loop.

"And I didn't even get my coffee," he grumbled as he made his way to the apparition point. When staying at White Rock he was a coffee drinker in the morning. At Hogwarts, it was tea all the way. Gabrielle teased him that it was his inner Frenchman coming out when at White Rock.

Materializing in the entry hall of White Rock, he was immediately aware of shouting from the sitting room. Alarmed, he drew his wand and Disillusioned himself. Creeping down the hall, he identified one of the voices as Steven Granger.

"What the hell is going on in this country of yours, Delacour? I repeat myself, my daughter was almost killed last night!"

Harry's shoulders slumped. He should have known that something like this would happen.

"And you! It was your idea that she dance with the person who kidnapped her! I don't know what kind of morals you have, but…"

"Steven, please!" Alice interrupted.

Harry caught the gist of what Hermione's father had been insinuating and to whom he was talking. He immediately saw red and stalked in the room, removing the Disillusionment as he went.

A red-faced Steven Granger spun around as Harry entered and he spat, "And you!"

"Quiet!" Harry barked. His rage was palpable. The magicals in the room recoiled from him as his magic leaked out of him in a torrent. It was so powerful as to be nauseating.

"Listen to me you son of a bitch," Harry snarled. Some part of him realized that he was losing control but between his physical and mental exhaustion, he was beyond mental endurance and no longer cared. He was exhausted, emotionally wrung out from the night before and Granger had verbally accosted his wife; something for which he had punished far more powerful men than Steven Granger.

"You want to yell at someone, yell at me. But remember this you yellow bellied bastard," Harry was stalking at the now pale faced man, his hair blowing in a magical wind. Granger retreated as Harry advanced. Finally, backing into a couch, Steven fell on his bum and Harry pressed on to tower over him. "You remember that I've saved her three times now and will do so for the rest of my life if needs be. Hermione is my family and my heart bleeds when she pricks her finger. Remember that. I regret what happened more than you could ever imagine, so DON'T you yell at my wife for something that isn't HER FAULT!"

He was breathing hard at the end and poked Granger in the chest in conjunction with "her fault." In a flash, Gabrielle was on her feet and pulling Harry away from the seated Englishman.

It was Hermione's turn now. She had been white faced when Harry entered the room. Now she strode so fast, it seemed that she was running to her father. Before Steven Granger could move or say anything, Hermione slapped her father full on the face.

Quiet ruled the room.

"I am ashamed to be your daughter."

Hermione's harsh whisper carried to all present. Steven's involuntary wince was echoed by Henri, Marie and Alice. It was one of the worst things any parent could hear from their child. Failing grades, trouble with the law and so on could be worked out. However, this statement flayed Steven Granger open to his soul. He had no defence. Tears pooling in his eyes, he awaited the storm of righteousness from his irate daughter.

"You didn't listen to me at all when I told you what happened, did you? Harry and Gabrielle killed to save me. Do you have any idea what that means? They _killed_ people. I was with Harry during the aftermath when he was forced to kill our Defence professor at the end of our first year. Do you have any idea the nightmares he suffered? The self-doubt? The reproach for having killed a man?"

She turned and gestured to the stone-faced Bill and Fleur standing near the window and then to Sirius and Hestia on a couch. Finally, she reached out to take Gabrielle's hand in her right and Harry's in her left. "These six beautiful, wonderful people who rescued me brought all that risk, pain and suffering onto themselves to save me. They _knew_ the price they would pay. They knew and they did it without hesitation because they love me."

Her scowl deepening, Hermione threw the spear through her father's heart, "You sit here and have the unmitigated gall to, once again, abuse these good people when they have literally saved my life. I am ashamed of you and my name."

Hermione spun on her heel and ran out of the room, the long controlled tears beginning to fall. Alice said nothing. She rose, glared at her husband and followed Hermione out of the room. Silently, Gabrielle followed.

Harry was still emotional, but had calmed somewhat during Hermione's powerful rebuke of her father. Steven Granger's ashen expression was falling as he realized not only what he had said, but also what he had done.

"Mr. Granger," Harry began in a controlled voice, "I realize that you were scared, no, terrified about your daughter. I make allowance for that. However, never attack my wife again, sir." Harry's unspoken _or else_ was conveyed quite clearly.

Steven looked at him with a hopeless expression before nodding absently. Rising, he smoothed his trousers and in a soft voice, apologized, "I am very sorry for my words and actions. As Harry here says, I was and still am terrified for the life of my only daughter. It was inexcusable for me to say and do the things that I did and can only hope that you will find it in your hearts to forgive me someday. Please excuse me, I must go pack," he finished as he moved to the door.

Turning back to Harry, he added, "When I see your wife next, sir, I shall apologize in person." Harry nodded in acknowledgment before the man turned to leave.

Surveying the remaining occupants of the room, Harry saw expressions that ranged from proud to shocked and many in between. Flopping on the couch next to Sirius, he closed his eyes and moaned, "Can I get through one day without life altering drama. Please?"

.oOo.

Gabrielle walked into Hermione's room, hearing the low sound of Hermione sobbing and her mother's quiet reassurances. Gliding to the side of the bed, she climbed in and wrapped her arms around Hermione from behind.

The three women stayed like that for minutes until Hermione's weeping tapered off. Gabrielle reached behind her, grabbed some tissues from the nightstand and handed them to her friend.

"Thanks."

"Of course."

They were silent for a bit before Gabrielle began in a tentative voice, "Hermione?"

"Yes?" came the soft reply.

"Thank you for the wonderful things you said about us back there." She gave her friend another hug and continued, "You are one of my best friends and I would do almost anything for you. It makes me feel good that you feel the same way about me."

This declaration unleashed the renown Hermione Granger rib crushing hug, "Oh, I do! You and Harry mean so much to me! I love you both!"

Patting her friend's back, Gabrielle murmured, "I think you were too hard on your father, though."

Hermione stiffened at the declaration. "Hermione," Gabrielle pressed on, "He was terrified you were hurt or dead. He's probably still afraid that you will be hurt or killed in the future."

Alice chimed in, "She's right dear. I've never seen your father this afraid." With a hint of humour, she added, "Except maybe when he went to ask my father for my hand."

The three women chuckled, and after a bit, Hermione allowed, "Maybe I was a bit harsh in my delivery, but my point stands. Daddy was completely in the wrong with what he said."

Gabrielle held her tongue as one of the aggrieved parties, but Alice didn't disagree with her daughter. "You are completely correct, sweetie. I am going to have a bit of a 'discussion' with your father later." Her face fell as she turned to Gabrielle, "I expect we'll be leaving tomorrow. I'm sure that your family isn't very keen to have Grangers in the house much longer."

Taking on her role as the future mistress of White Rock, as well as, the current mistress of Rowan Hill and the Lady Potter. "You may stay as long as you wish. Our family is well aware of the stress you and your husband are under. Have no concerns over ill will from our family. Take some time to rest. If you'd like to dine in your rooms that would be fine, but please join us for dinner."

Standing, Gabrielle smoothed her dress and moved to the door. As she was reaching for the handle, it opened from the outside. Steven Granger was standing there, looking at her with a chagrined and embarrassed expression.

"Lady Potter," he began in a soft voice, so different from the harsh tones he'd been using earlier. "I cannot express the depth of my regret to you for my statements earlier. They were appalling and my behaviour inexcusable. I apologize in the strongest terms possible."

Gabi's eyes narrowed a touch. Despite her words to Hermione minutes earlier, Steven Granger had touched a cord within her despite his motivation. As she had told Harry so long ago, society viewed her as a woman of loose morals and in some quarters, a prostitute, and it rankled to be reminded of that, even unknowingly.

She used a slow blink to regain control of her emotions and remember the circumstances in which she was involved. Steven Granger knew none of these prejudices. Granted, he had plenty of his own, but he wasn't guilty of this sin.

"Thank you, monsieur Granger. I accept your apology."

Noticeably relieved, Granger replied, "Thank you. I believe I must beg your forgiveness as I feel we should leave as soon as possible."

With a stern expression, Gabrielle explained, "Your wife and I have already discussed this topic. She can explain. Excuse me."

.oOo.

"I am going to sleep for a week. No, scratch that. A month."

Gabrielle crawled into bed with her husband and smiled at his antics. "How was practice?"

"Fine. Sleep now."

Smiling again, she cuddled up to him. "I love you."

Smiling sleepily, he muttered, "Love you."

Behind the impressive wards of the Delacour Estates at White Rock, the Potters slept soundly for eighteen hours.

.oOo.

When Harry finally woke early on Sunday morning, he found his wife awake at his side and watching him.

"Hey, beautiful."

"Good morning, mon cher."

Groping, he found his wand and took care of his morning breath problem. He couldn't ignore his screaming bladder, though, so he hurried off to the toilet.

Climbing back into bed a few minutes later, she asked, "Better?"

"Much. How did you sleep?"

Ignoring the question, she kissed him with a searing passion.

Harry, ever being the gentleman, acceded to his wife's wishes and returned her passion with his own. A half hour later, they lay entwined in the sweet afterglow of morning lovemaking. As she nuzzled his neck, he asked, "What brought all that on?"

"You are my knight in shining armour, my love and my best friend. I can't help myself around you sometimes."

Remembering how he tore a strip off Steven Granger in her defence, he had an inkling of the events which spurred her. Ignoring the confusing and ill-mannered man, he focused on his wife.

"What do you want to do today?"

"Beach and homework."

Their summer tutelage was not at the incredibly fast pace that it had been the year before. As such, they didn't spend every waking moment studying, but they still had quite a bit.

"Take Hermione with us?"

She nodded and smiled, "She'll bring her own book."

He was contemplatively silent for a while until she asked, "What are you thinking about, mon cher?"

He gave a great sigh and explained, "How to protect Hermione in the future."

She let him sit for a minute before scrambling out of bed. Smiling, she went to his dresser, grabbed his running clothes and tossed them at him, "Up and at 'em Potter!"

On their second lap of the property, they were joined by Sirius on his morning run. They fell in a line, first Sirius leading, and then Gabrielle followed by Harry. They changed off every so often and kept a fast pace. By the end, all three were panting, but exhilarated.

After their cool down stretches, they ambled down to the beach. The land breeze was gentle and sweet smelling as it freshened them.

"Sirius?"

"Yeah, kiddo?"

"Gabrielle and I were talking earlier, and I want to find a way to protect Hermione. The problem is that she would need a bodyguard and to live in a magical bubble like here," he indicated White Rock and its impressive wards.

Padfoot of the Marauders rubbed his goatee in thought. After being quiet for a good five minutes, his eyes brightened. "I've got it."

Back at the chateau, he woke Hestia and asked Gabrielle to fetch Hermione and her parents. All cleaned up and freshened with a cup or two of coffee, the household was back in the sitting room, tempers much more under control this time.

Sirius related the discussion he and Harry had earlier and voiced the collective concern regarding Hermione and her well-being. "I wanted everyone here, because I Have A Plan."

Harry groaned softly. "Oh, no," he whispered to Gabrielle who was giggling at the antics of Sirius and her husband.

Despite Sirius' clowning around it was a decent plan. "Look," he directed his comments toward Hermione, "The hardcore Death Eaters and their moronic leader already want you. There's not much we can do about changing their minds. Now, the moderate purebloods that dislike you because of your muggleborn status, those Neanderthals, we can directly address."

Sirius had a smug expression that fell when Henri responded to the unasked question of 'how'. "You intend to place her under the formal protection of House Black."

Pouting a little that his thunder had been stolen, he added, "House Potter and maybe Delacour as well, if you would consider it."

Harry blinked. He had no idea what Sirius and Henri were talking about. "Er, for the stupid among us, what are you talking about Padfoot?"

"It's an old time pureblood tradition that dates back to the middle ages. You know that the wealthy houses had vassals, right? Families that politically and economically aligned themselves with their overlord. It was a step up from serfdom as the Lord didn't own the vassal, but they hopped to it if he ever 'asked' them to do something. In return, they got protection, advancement and the plum's of their overlord.

"Placing a person, or a family, under the protection of a house is a step up from that. There are no mutual oaths sworn outside those of friendship by the protected. The protector promises to protect the object person or family to the best of their ability."

Annoyed and confused, Harry countered, "We don't need to do this. I would do anything to protect Hermione and she knows that."

A soft smile on her face, Hermione whispered, "I do. Thank you, Harry."

He nodded to her before returning his gaze to his godfather.

"Yes, little one," Sirius teased. "We know that, she knows that, but this isn't for you or her." Playfully knocking his godson on the head, he commanded, "Shut up until I'm done, grasshopper."

Laughing a bit, Harry muttered, "Sorry."

"As I was saying. This formal, public declaration is for the purebloods out there that aren't like my rabid cousin who would disembowel herself at Voldemort's command. This is for that little shyte Malfoy and his like. When they know that two or even three houses have placed their aegis over our Hermione, well, their parents at least will make them back off."

Hermione asked, "That sounds great, but what about at school? Malfoy and his ilk would only have to deal with Harry and Gabrielle and be done."

Sirius smirked, "Well, Harry and Gabrielle by themselves are quite formidable. But also, Black and Potter would be protecting Granger _economically_."

Now, Hermione understood. She began to giggle before giving in and guffawing. Her mother obviously didn't understand because she commanded rather acerbically, "Please explain what is so amusing, Hermione Jane."

"Mum, Harry and Sirius are some of the richest wizards in all of the British Isles if not Europe. They could ruin most families without a thought. For the really wealthy ones like Malfoy and Crabbe, it might take a month or so."

A bit hesitantly, Steven Granger asked, "What obligations would we have to the two of you?"

Sirius smiled and leaned back on the sofa. "None outside of friendship. The exact wording of the oath escapes me, but the gist is that the protected party will never turn on their protector."

"That's it?" he asked, stunned.

"Yep."

Glancing at his wife, the elder Grangers had the silent conversation that so many married couples can have. Eventually, he turned back to the room and declared, "We would be willing to take the oath as a family if Hermione decides to take this step."

The magicals in the room were taken aback by this statement. These words were from the same man who, earlier in the day, had been castigating those who now offered protection. Turning a bit red, Steven explained in a soft voice, "I have learned my lesson about controlling my fear and not taking it out on those around me. If you are willing to do this, I, as head of our family, am willing to swear an oath like you describe."

Henri stood, "This is an excellent idea, but let's not be hasty. We can have an excellent meal, sleep on it and decide tomorrow or the next day. I am taking the _Lady Marie_ out today, who would like to accompany me?"

Taken aback by the entire affair, Harry sat there until he noticed Gabrielle answering, "We will come, papa."

It turned out that everyone but Marie and the Grangers were taking the occasion to have some fun in the sun. Hermione opted out as the group moved down the path toward the docks. "I'm just going to read up on the whole protectorate process," she explained apologetically.

Harry had been surprised when she hadn't immediately headed to the Delacour library, so he just smiled and waved her on her way.

The mariners had a nice day. A sandwich for lunch and lots of fun was the regimen for all hands. Sirius had no idea what he was doing but seemed determined to enjoy doing it. Hestia was a diffident seaman and was soon relegated to the bows to stay out of the way. Bill and Fleur had to be reminded to attend their tasks on more than one occasion by a laughing Gabrielle, who was captain for the day.

They docked as the sun set. Harry was at the helm with Gabrielle watching her bring the boat in with wind alone. It was much more intricate than when he used the motion charms that Henri had taught him.

Hermione was waiting at the dock, "I'll do it."

.oOo.

HOUSE BLACK & HOUSE POTTER PROTECTOR OF MUGGLEBORN

"Well, that's real subtle Sirius," Harry grumbled.

Smiling happily, Sirius responded, "I thought so. The reporter from the _International Herald Tribune_ was more than happy to scoop the _Prophet_. One ten minute interview later and voila," he indicated the front page of the paper with a flourish.

When Harry rolled his eyes, Sirius admonished him. "Hey, the idea was for the whole world to know not to fuck with Hermione, yeah? This accomplishes that with minimal effort on our part."

Holding his hands in the air, he gave in, "I surrender. You're right."

Sirius had a look of mild expectancy on his face when he mock scolded, "Now is that what you're supposed to say?"

Smiling, Gabrielle stepped in, "What my husband meant to say is 'I admit that Padfoot the eternal-all-knowing is once again stupendously smart and brilliant'."

"Aaannd?"

"Oh, yes. 'And an incredible sexy beast'."

"Thank you," and he settled back into his breakfast.

.oOo.

Sirius and Harry were taking a walk while Fleur led her mother and Gabrielle on a wild trek through the boutiques of Paris, beginning the search for a wedding dress.

Bill had acceded to having the wedding at Notre Dame, which, according to him, had not been well received by mother Weasley. Despite the friendly relations between the two families, apparently Molly Weasley had her heart set on her eldest son being married from home.

Sirius and Harry chatted as they wended their way through the sparse woods on the landward side of the estate. The upcoming Quidditch match was in four days and it consumed quite a bit of Sirius' attention.

Hermione had headed home a few days before and promised to attend the match in the box reserved for Harry's guests. Cancelling their Grecian excursions, the Granger family had decided to stay at White Rock and spend some time together. Steven Granger had actually recovered extremely well from his atrocious behaviour to the point where Marie encouraged him to return to White Rock the next summer.

"Speaking of Hermione," Harry segued.

"Yeeess?"

"The protectorate will stave off the mosquitoes and wasps amongst our enemies, but what about the heavy hitters? The Voldemorts and Lestranges and so on?"

Sirius sighed. "I don't know. She can hide, run or get strong. I don't see her being the type to do the first two so I guess it's the last. We need to help her get strong."

Hollowly, Harry observed, "No matter how strong you are, the Killing curse is still effective." Turning to his godfather he finished, "Look at my parents."

Sirius winced. "Yeah." Sirius kicked a rock down the path before observing, "You and Gabrielle have completely dedicated yourselves to accelerating your education. You'll be ready when that pus-filled bag of shit comes calling, yeah?"

Harry had to chuckle at Sirius' colourful description, but found it apt nonetheless.

"So we set Hermione up on the same schedule. Drop a little note to your good buddy Amelia Bones requesting a dispensation for underage magic for one Hermione J. Granger and then line up the tutors. I'll set up with the Goblins to ward their house to hell and back."

"Why don't we just owl Bill instead? I'm sure he knows exactly the best people and wards to use."

"Sure," Sirius murmured. "Hey, what about Moony?"

Deadpan, Harry responded, "What about him?"

Taken aback a bit by Harry's non-response, Sirius went on, "Well, he could tutor her in Defence."

Harry shrugged, his face a mask, "Sure."

Annoyed, Sirius stopped walking and asked, "What's up?"

"Nothing. I'm fine."

Furrowing his brow, Sirius pressed on, "Bullshit. What's wrong? I mention Moony's name and you get all weird."

Harry was silent before he restarted their walk. Sirius was about to tear his godson's head off before he recognized that Harry was thinking deeply about something and motion must help him think.

Harry pulled up without warning and asked, "Where has Remus been?"

The non-sequitur took Sirius aback and he sputtered, "Well…when?"

"Since he left Hogwarts."

Sirius rubbed his neck and had a glimmer of Harry's intent. "Well, he's been here and there. Hard for him to get a job and he's got a pretty stiff neck when it comes to charity."

"Too busy to write a letter, eh?"

Sirius' face became stony. "Look," Harry began, "You have a very legitimate reason why I didn't meet you until I did. I mean, really, what were you going to do? Write a letter saying, 'Hi Harry, I'm your godfather and Dementors suck,'?" Waving his hands in the air encouraged both him and Sirius to laugh.

The laughter died from his face when he continued, "Remus wasn't under the same restraints. He could have come see me or sent a card or something!"

Harry's face had darkened during their talk. Now he was angry. "I was in hell at the Dursleys and where was he? He professes to be one of my dad's best friends? Where the fuck was he? You break out of prison and your first thought is to get to me. A stupid thought, but I appreciate it." He smiled to try to soften both their moods.

It worked a little. Sirius paused long, debating. He reached his resolution when he said, "Remus and I have had this talk. I beat the shit out of him for his answer. I won't tell you what he said, as it's between us, but I do encourage you to talk with him. Despite him showing up as 'missing', he was another of our brothers. I don't know what we would have done without Moony."

Narrowing his eyes, Harry watched his godfather, looking for a sign of dishonesty. Seeing his sincerity, Harry nodded. "I'll write him and set up a meeting. It may not be until we go back to school, but I'll try." Mock glaring at Sirius, Harry asked, "Happy?"

Sirius beamed, "Ecstatic!"

Rolling his eyes, Harry picked up the thread of their talk and offered, "We should probably get Hermione in on this discussion. She probably has some definite opinions on all this."

Sirius nodded in agreement, as they continued their walk, working out the details of a plan to keep their bushy haired friend alive to see her next birthday.

.oOo.

The Wimbourne Wasps were their opponent.

Oliver had owled portkeys to all the players, which would bring them directly to the dressing rooms. It was a security precaution, he wrote. With the anti-apparition wards and anti-portkey wards in place, the only person on the planet who could make a portkey into Nelson Field was Puddlemere's security chief.

Harry arrived at two in the afternoon, six hours prior to the start of the match. The field house was a bit of a madhouse with some press already running about and the trainers taping up the Twins already.

"What's the what, fellas?" Harry asked as he indicated the tape on George's wrists.

"It's a muggle sports thing. Since we can't take potions or spell ourselves, it seemed like a good thing." Holding up his hand, he gestured, "Helps support our wrists and also a bit of cushion should we take a shot in the wrists."

"Smarts, that does," commented Fred.

"Only 'cause you're a pussy," muttered George.

Fred turned to his twin, "Fuck you brother!"

George shook his head solemnly, "Never right before a match."

Harry laughed and proceeded to his locker where he dropped his bag. Before he could turn around, the questions began. Smiling to himself, he did as Gabrielle had asked before he left: "Be nice to the leeches."

Harry was surprised that over ¾ of the questions were Quidditch related. Most focused on his inclinations for selecting a professional team, but many still were asked about the upcoming match.

"I feel like we have a very good chance to win the match. Granted, Wimbourne is a very good club. Fast, excellent coordination with the chaser. The beaters are very aware and responsive. Their keeper is very solid. A tough club all around."

"What about their seeker, Harry?"

Harry had been watching omnioculars recordings of his opposite, Swiss phenom Hilda Schulz. She was of middling height and lean. Driving her broom like a demon, she was powerful and yet graceful. Probably his best opponent to date.

"Hilda is very good. I'm looking forward to this match very much," he commented with a feral smile.

After most of the reporters left, he looked down the aisle at his Captain. Harry had never seen Oliver so stress-free before a match. He was calmly answering the questions from a _Daily Prophet_ reporter. Fred sidled up to Harry and asked, "Does Ollie have a girl?":

"Dunno. Why?"

With a wicked smile, Fred answered, "He's so…_relaxed_." The two broke up in laughter, which prompted questions from the chasers that neither guy wanted to answer. Under the threat of telling Molly Weasley, they finally came clean.

"Hmmm," Angelina responded thoughtfully. "It makes sense." Turning to their old/new Captain, she shouted, "Oi! Oliver! Did you get laid last night?"

When Oliver's face blushed bright red, the entire team dissolved in laughter. Oliver, the completely incompetent ladies man was shy about his love life.

"I'll have you know it wasn't like that! She's a decent, proper sort of girl!"

This only fuelled the laughter.

"Ach, bugger off, the lot of you!"

Eventually, they all calmed and Oliver glanced at the clock. Everyone else noticed that it was about time so they headed to their lockers to don their uniforms. Harry pulled his familiar number 7 over his head and had to smile. Only when playing Quidditch did the whole Boy-Who-Lived, the prophecy, Death Eaters, Voldemort and the rest fall away. He could be Harry, getting his just desserts based on his performance.

His feral grin widened. Hilda wouldn't know what hit her.

They ran through their opening set plays. Defensive responses for various situations. Hand signals and the like. Harry heard about every fourth word. Sometimes it was even less.

Finally it was time. There must have been Silencing charms on the field house because when Oliver opened the door the roar of the crowd knocked them back a step.

Oliver turned to them, "It's just like back at school, just a wee bit louder."

"Wee bit louder, he says," George muttered as they stepped on the pitch. Nelson Field held an even one hundred thousand and every seat was filled. Harry had been impressed when he first saw the pitch when the stands were empty. Filled, it was amazing.

Turning to Alicia, Harry smiled. She smiled back and they began to laugh. Soon the entire team was laughing and bouncing on their toes.

"LIONS, LIONS, LIONS FOR THE CUP!" Oliver bellowed. Everyone took up the call and soon they were in a frenzied madness.

The referee motioned the team to midfield. Taking up their positions, Oliver walked to the coin toss.

The referee tossed a Galleon in the air and bellowed, "Gryffindor! Call it in the air!"

"Dragons!"

"Dragons it is! Which goal?"

"South," this was Oliver's home pitch and he definitely had a favourite set of hoops to defend.

The keepers flew off to their stomping grounds as the rest of the teams took their traditional places.

Screaming like a pack of Banshees, the crowd was split between the Gryffindors and the Wasps. Clusters of fans were wearing scarlet next to a pack of yellow jacketed groups.

Harry eyed Hilda Schulz. Appearances could be deceiving, but she looked fast. Smiling he straddled his broom waiting for the quaffle throw.

"And they're off!" shouted the voice of the announcer.

Fast wasn't the half of it. The Wimbourne chasers moved like quicksilver and made two rapid assaults on goal. Oliver turned away the first but was burned on the second.

This seemed to settle 'the girls' as they quickly asserted themselves. The Twins came into their own as they took the opposing chasers to task.

"OH! That had to hurt!" the announcer shouted when Fred clocked a bludger straight into the gut of the Wasp's lead chaser. Taking advantage of the temporary indisposition, the girls swung into a Hawkshead and pressed on to goal, tying the score at 10-10.

The match proceeded like it had begun. Impossibly fast and brutal bludger play. Thrice Harry had broken up three on one breakaways. Twice he had taken a glancing bludger blow that left his right leg and left arm numb for minutes.

Harry kept his own search pattern, keeping an eye on Hilda. She seemed to be marking him at a distance while trying to conduct her own search. At the thirty minute mark, he decided it was time.

"THERE GOES POTTER! SCHULZ IS HOT ON HIS TAIL!"

Part of Harry was euphoric, giggling in delight. This was by far the best match in which he'd ever played The other half was coldly analysing the situation, doing everything he could to keep from looking over his shoulder to see if Schulz was following. Increasing the angle of his dive, he flattened himself on his broom.

He didn't know it, but Hilda Schulz was never less than three feet behind him, scanning desperately for the snitch. When Harry dove deeper and flattened himself to his broom, she cursed to herself and gave over the search to keep up. Maybe she could overtake him at the last and beat him to the snitch. It wasn't unreasonable, she'd done it twice during the previous season.

Harry had been practicing his Wronski Feint for the previous three weeks. He'd needed to cast a Cushioning charm on himself when he started ploughing. At the end, he was able to pull up with two feet to spare.

This evening, he pulled up with a mere 10 inches to spare before he shot back into the sky.

He gave a grim smile when he heard the terrific _thud_ as Schulz ploughed.

The crowd was insane with their cheering, screaming and general carrying on. This was what they had come to see: Harry Potter. The chaser war was the best that had been seen in years. The keepers would duel for the starting slot for England come the spring and the beaters were deadly. But Harry Potter flying one of the best seekers in the League into the dirt sent the crowd into a paroxysm of joy.

He didn't have time to mess about. Schulz would be up and about soon enough. He shot to two hundred feet in a vertical climb passing through three hundred kilometres per hour before he levelled off. The deafening crowd faded to nothing as he focused on his search. Quartering the pitch he looked, prayed, looked, cursed, looked. Schulz hooked her leg over her broom and shot into the air.

_Dammit!_

There it was. Ignoring all, he lay flat on his broom and shot across the pitch at over five hundred kilometres an hour. Later, the Firebolt representative asked for an interview to see if they could determine how Harry surpassed the top speed of the broom.

He was barely visible flying lengthwise up the field. One well hit bludger missed behind him and he plain out flew the other. Not to be denied he flew past a Wimbourne chaser who was trying to distract him.

He had it. They had won.

A/N

1. I own nothing.

2. In Italy (correct me if I'm wrong anyone) there are guards outside the churches in order to prevent anyone entering the house of God in inappropriate clothing (shorts/tank tops and so on). Long pants for gentlemen and skirts/pants for ladies are required. Since the churches are so beautiful, some tourists have taken to treating these churches as museums instead of the holy places they are. I understand that some entrepreneurial spirits have taken up the gauntlet and begun selling disposable pants outside the larger churches.

3. Obviously, I invented the statistics regarding the potentiality regarding the Animagus transformation. I based the basic idea on the numbers of registered Animagi referenced in HP & POA to get the small number. Even if five times the number of registered persons were unregistered, the potentiality for a person to achieve the transformation must be very small.

4. Recommendation for the chapter is

5. By the way, I've started to edit and rewrite _To Stand Against the Darkness_. On chapter 3 so far. When I'm done editing the existing chapters, I am going to finish the story. Once it's complete, the whole shebang will be posted, probably a chapter every couple of days.

6. _Harry and Gabi_ is getting close. Sixth year and maybe the summer afterwards. If anyone is keeping track… Fourth Year was 31k words, Summer after Fourth Year was 18k words, Fifth year was 42k words, and now the Summer after Fifth Year is 26k words. I think Sixth Year is going to be humongous. Don't expect it to post before Easter. Thanks to any and all who have reviewed and been patient in waiting for this chappie - muggledad


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five: Sixth Year: Winter Term**

"Damn."

Harry was sitting in the parlour of the new Black Manor showing Sirius and Hestia pictures and drawings of what the _Gabi _would look like after she was completed building. Sirius was not much of a mariner, but he was impressed with what Harry was showing him.

Henri had recommended a magical shipwright who worked out of Toulon as a place to start their search. The search started and ended with Master Shipwright Proteus.

They found the rather old man fishing off the end of a pier. The Master Shipwright was a caricature of himself; he seemed ancient, brown as a nut and nearly covered in tattoos. He squinted at the couple, recognized Henri's name when Harry mentioned the referral and beckoned them to follow.

A little leery of following people he didn't know to places with which he wasn't familiar, Harry had surreptitiously drawn his wand when they followed Proteus into a rundown shack.

Inside was a beautiful shop that was magically expanded to four times its external dimensions.

"What size?" were the shipwright's first words.

"Forty feet or better."

"Hunh," he grunted as he nodded in appreciation. Rummaging through a long and wide drawer, Proteus eventually pulled out a set of ship's drawings. Immediately he turned to a shelf and poked around a bit longer.

"Ahh," he muttered and dropped a thick envelope of pictures on the huge table next to the drawings. Seeing Harry and Gabrielle on the other side of the room, he gestured at the drawings while grunting, "Well?"

The Potters approached and were amazed. Neither was naval architects, but even to the uninitiated the lines of the fifty-seven foot long yacht were beautiful. A huge cabin gave over to a sleeping area for ten in six separated berths. The dining area sat eight with room for chairs to be pulled up. The lounge appeared to be the definition of comfort and style.

"What's this?" Gabrielle asked as she pointed to a large space accessed via a scuttle in the deck of the galley.

"Below decks storage. Expansion charms give you more room than you could ever use. Tricky to get buoyancy and stability charms right as a result. Will need to teach you how to stow your hold." Proteus was actively scowling when he explained the last.

Harry was on the verge of laughing at the old man. Here was the prototypical grouchy old sailor, yet he was obviously capable of building beautiful vessels of style, elegance and character. It was like talking to The Old Man of the Sea.

Noticing the pictures, Harry picked through the pack and was stunned. Teak decks, Dalmatian oak for the towering mast, brass fittings, gold leaf and mahogany were in abundance with the best Manila hemp for the rigging. He handed the pictures to Gabrielle before asking the old man, "How long?"

A hint of a smile graced Proteus's cracked face. "Ten months minimum. Maybe a full year."

"There's an extra thousand galleons for you if you finish by the beginning of next June."

"Two thousand extra and it's done."

Smiling, Harry extended his hand to seal the deal.

.oOo.

Like the previous year, Henri and Marie accompanied Harry and Gabrielle to London. They all stayed with Sirius and Hestia at the new Black Manor.

Originally, Sirius had decided to sell his mother's home on Grimmauld Place, but he reconsidered after purchasing a large estate in Sussex. Hestia had accompanied him to the old house and watched him very carefully cancel a series of wards on the house. He then cast a fire suppression charm around the perimeter of the property.

Hestia later told Harry that Sirius had an expression approaching glee as he cast Fiendfyre. His childhood home was swiftly consumed, leaving behind a trace of the foundation that supported the home he had hated so much.

Harry and Gabrielle had talked to Sirius who endorsed their idea. They gathered the entire family, including Bill, on the evening of the 28th of August at the new Black Manor.

When everyone was settled and refreshed, Sirius cast a series of privacy wards. After the second ward, Bill and Fleur traded a look of concern. When Sirius was satisfied, he gave Harry a nod.

Gabrielle had convinced him to tell the story before they returned to Scotland.

"They are our family, mon cher. They deserve to know."

"Before I was born, there was a prophecy made…"

He was still getting used to the idea of having a real family and as such wasn't sure what rights and responsibilities he had with regard to them. At her urging, he ploughed on with the revelation.

Harry told the story of his life in short, but through the prism of this new knowledge. Most of the time, his eyes were closed as he focused on drawing strength from his life mate sitting at his side.

Opening his eyes at the end of the story, he was stunned when he saw the tears pouring down Marie's face. Looking to his left, Fleur burst into sobs, which wracked her lean form. Sirius' face was ashen as he held Hestia in his arms. Harry was nonplussed. It was still amazing to him that others could love him.

He was buried under the embraces of Delacour women for minutes as they all wept.

"Crap."

Marie's use of a curse word was so incongruous that Harry couldn't help himself and began laughing. With a confused smile, his mother in law hugged him again and muttered her apologies. He waved her off to find the reaction he most feared.

Harry had been terrified that Henri would be irate. True, Harry had known nothing regarding the prophecy when they signed the marriage contract the summer previous. Henri couldn't justifiably cry 'fraud'. However, Henri's daughter was now married to the most dangerous man to be around in the world. Gabrielle had reassured Harry on many occasions that nothing could pry her from his side, but Harry was more afraid of rejection by his father in law than losing his wife. He'd grown to love the man sitting across from him in the airy sitting room.

He wanted Henri's support very much and in his typical Gryffindorish manner, met the problem square on. He caught Henri's gaze.

Henri Delacour was sitting stone still in his chair as a pair of tears coursed down his face. Harry rose from his chair and approached his father in law. It was a meaningful moment for Harry, for he'd come to love this man and valued his opinion highly. If anyone had asked him at the end of his Third year if he needed anyone, Harry would have scoffed. Now, two years later, Harry knew he needed everyone in the room if he were to fulfil his destiny. This man in front of him was the man he looked up to as a guide, a role model of how to act as a husband and a man. Silently, Harry kneeled in front of the older man and in a questioning voice, asked, "Papa?"

In those moments when Harry recited the prophecy, Henri's heart had broken. There was something about Harry that made him want to take care of the young man. He'd come to love the young man who'd captured his daughter's heart, and his own in turn.

This prophecy seemed like a death sentence. Henri's immediate reaction had been despair and because of which he almost gave up hope. Who could defeat the monster that had nearly controlled Britain and so strongly influenced the continent? Being frank with himself, Henri admitted that Harry's first defeat of Voldemort was a freak accident – Harry himself would concede the point.

But here was the young man, bent but unbroken. Blowing in the wind but never breaking. If Harry was able to bear it, Henri must. For all their sakes. They were family.

Henri's answer to his son in law's plea for help, guidance and love was an embrace.

In Harry's relief, he burst into tears. Sirius knelt behind his godson and wrapped his arms around both weeping men.

Harry marvelled. He had a family. A family that loved him. A family that supported him.

A few minutes later, the men broke their group embrace and stood, albeit a bit shakily. Bill approached Harry and after a small hesitation, took the shorter man in his arms for a quick hug. As he held his soon to be brother in law, Bill whispered, "My wand is yours to command. You have but to ask and I will be there for you."

Harry nodded into Bill's shoulder, "Thanks, Bill."

Marie gathered up her youngest daughter. Gabrielle had watched the interplay with her husband and father with a hint of trepidation. She had hoped that her father would react in the manner he had, but hadn't sure. She'd known that Henri's approval meant the world to Harry and had prayed her father would react with sense instead of with fear.

When Henri embraced Harry, Gabrielle let go the breath she had unknowingly been holding. A few stray tears escaped in the emotion of the moment. Marie and Fleur descended on either side of her and scooped her up just as Harry was being held.

Love was an incredible thing. A power that would support, propel and motivate Harry and Gabrielle to feats they had never dreamed. All because they loved and were loved. Amazing.

.oOo.

"Shit."

Harry was re-reading the short letter he'd received from Remus Lupin. The former Defence professor and Moony of the Marauders had accepted Harry's invitation to meet with him and Gabrielle during the first Hogsmeade weekend. It was a rather sterile letter. No emotion, good or bad in the words.

"I don't want to deal with this," he muttered to his wife as he waved the parchment.

Gabrielle didn't respond. She knew him well enough by now to realize that he was whinging. The best course was to let him be, it would pass shortly.

Grumbling, Harry stumbled into the bathroom for a long shower. Refreshed and revived, the Potters dressed for their morning appointment.

Earlier in the summer, Harry had written Amelia Bones and inquired into the plans for increasing the security at Hogwarts. As much as Harry had hated Dumbledore, he had to admit that the old wizard's presence at the school had been a significant deterrent to Voldemort. With Dumbledore dead and Snape on the run, Harry and Gabrielle (as well as, Henri and Marie) wanted to know what steps the Ministry was taking to secure the castle.

This morning, the Potters and Delacours were to be briefed by Connie Hammer, the new Director of Magical Law Enforcement, and Rufus Scrimgeour, the Head Auror. Harry was surprised to see Sirius up and dressed at breakfast. Usually, he worked out early but didn't become presentable until mid-morning. A flat, "I'm going with you," had been Sirius' only response to questioning. Maybe Sirius was taking his role as godfather/older brother as serious as he'd declared over the summer.

A ripple of apparition pops signified the arrival of the party of five in the Ministry Atrium. Hestia had kissed Sirius as she headed out to the office, leaving the rest for the appointment.

After checking in at security, a short pink-haired witch came down to guide them to the briefing room.

"Cousin Nymph – mmph!" Sirus' exclamation was cut off as his mouth was Vanished. Surprised, Harry turned to the witch who was scowling at Sirius.

Like turning on a light, the young woman's expression cleared as she greeted the VIPs. "I'm Auror Tonks and I'm to lead you to your briefing room. Please follow me."

"Er, what about him?" Harry asked as he indicated to Sirius. The Lord Black raised his hands in an 'At least someone is paying attention here' motion before pointing at his now nonexistent mouth.

Auror Tonks scowled at Sirius before answering. "Sirius is my cousin. He knows better than to shout out my first name."

"Oh, so you're the one…" Harry's recognition of 'Cousin Nymphy' dribbled into murmurs. The glare from the pink haired witch was quite intimidating. Similar to that from Auror D'artagn back in France.

Henri and Marie followed Tonks with Harry behind them. Gabrielle smiled at Sirius and shrugged before catching up with her husband. Sirius sighed. It wasn't the dramatic gesture he'd been hoping for, as he had to exhale through his nose. Sighing through one's nose isn't very dramatic. Shaking his head at how put upon he was, he followed his family to the briefing.

Harry entered a moderately sized conference room to see a large schematic of Hogwarts on a wall next to a map of the castle and grounds. A scale model was on one end of the long table. Standing next to the model were two late middle-aged persons.

The woman had short hair and an air about her that distinctly reminded him of Mad-Eye Moody. She wasn't someone to be trifled with on the best of days. Her face was familiar to him and when she turned at the sound of the door opening, he recognized Connie Hammer.

The leonine man next to her was Rufus Scrimgeour. Based on the documents in their hands it was obvious they were discussing the defences for the school.

"My Lords, my Lady, Foreign Minister, Mrs. Delacour; welcome." Once all were seated and tea served, Director Hammer began the brief. Harry was extremely impressed with the level of detail. Glancing to his right, he saw Henri paying the utmost attention to the Director, occasionally asking pertinent questions. Most of the time he was making the little unconscious noises that signified he was listening attentively. It impressed Harry because it was obvious that Henri was going out of his way to pay Director Hammer the courtesy of paying close attention to her words. She was an extremely busy woman and had many other tasks to accomplish. Harry resolved that the least he could do was the courtesy of paying attention.

Leaning forward, Harry noticed something off with the plan. The DMLE was garrisoning the castle with a permanent force of 30 Aurors and Hit-Wizards. They were rotating personnel out in a staggered rotation, so the entire force wasn't being relieved at the same time.

That was no problem; in fact, it made good sense to Harry. The problem was the location of the Auror command centre and barracks.

"Director?" Harry began somewhat tentatively. "Why are you placing the garrison in the Headmaster's tower?"

Hammer frowned, as if she were trying to remember the reason. Scrimgeour cleared his throat before explaining, "It was felt that the Headmaster's office was the key strategic position of the castle. From there the wards could be controlled and outside communications maintained via the Headmaster's Floo." With a wave of his hand, he finished, "It's also out of the way of the running of the school."

Harry frowned in turn as all the lessons from Beaucourt and Sensei Taguchi began paying dividends. "You are defending the castle from an attack by Voldemort and his minions?"

"Yes."

"What would his goal be?"

The Head Auror regarded Harry as if her were a simpleton, "To take control of the school." _Obviously_, was unspoken.

"If Lord Voldemort were to take control of…say, the Hufflepuff common room and the associated dormitories. Then, when he threatened to kill every Hufflepuff in the school lest the defenders surrender, do you think he could then take control of the school?"

Harry delivered his mixed observation and rebuke calmly. Connie Hammer flinched, nonetheless. He didn't blame these people. They were law enforcement officers, not soldiers. It was doubtful they had ever been exposed to the type of training Harry and Gabrielle had taken over the last two years, so he kept a civil tongue in his mouth – for now.

Indicating to the scale model of the castle, Harry observed, "There is only one observable passage in or out of the castle. Here," he pointed to the main entrance. "By placing the garrison here, or here," he indicated to two large classrooms directly off the entrance hall, "You have your fighting force directly interposed between the enemy and his goal."

Scrimgeour muttered, "But those are the Charms classrooms…" His objections tapered off as he realized how ridiculous they were.

Harry left unspoken that Voldemort could take control of the castle in a myriad of ways – so long as he had access to the interior of the castle. He watched Scrimgeour fume for a moment while Hammer was noncommittal.

Scrimgeour then did something that instantly earned Harry's respect, "You make a good series of points, my Lord. Unless there is an issue that I am unaware of, we shall move our forces to the rooms you have indicated. Thank you for voicing your observations. Do you have more ideas?"

Harry looked to Sirius who cleared his throat. "Er, yes. Well, there are a series of secret passages that lead out of the castle, here, here, here and here," he elaborated as he pointed out the locations on the drawing. "There is also one, here under the Whomping Willow that leads directly to the Shrieking Shack."

Hammer's face fell while Scrimgeour paled before he rubbed his face. Harry didn't understand their reaction so he asked. "Is this bad news?"

Without looking at him, Hammer replied, "Where there are five known secret passages, there are probably ten more that are unknown. To us, that is."

That sparked a thought for Harry. "What about the Chamber of Secrets?"

This prompted more groans from the law enforcement officers.

.oOo.

The train ride north was more of the same from previous years. The Potters, Hermione, Neville and Susan shared a compartment as they sped past the empty countryside.

Hermione was bursting at the idea of her following a summer regimen similar to that which her friends had followed for the previous summers. "I talked with Mum and Dad and they encouraged it. Since I'm of age in a few weeks, it makes the whole endeavour much easier. I should be able to begin my studies during the Christmas hols. Sirius wrote and offered to help find tutors. Well, after the wedding and all."

Apparently, Steven Granger had humbly apologized to his daughter in private for his bad behaviour at White Rock. Hermione had always been very close to her parents as a young girl. Being friendless, her parents and her books had been her friends. The near estrangement from her father had been very wearing on the bushy haired witch. His considerable efforts to please and be pleased by his hosts didn't go unnoticed by his daughter, though. What most pleased and mollified her was his sincerity.

"He told me that he realized he'd been an ass and didn't like being that way. Apparently Mum had a few choice words for him in private, as well." Hermione and Gabrielle exchanged wicked grins to which Harry only groaned.

Harry and Bill had both bemoaned the fact that when they were in conflict with their Delacour ladies, most of the time the ladies were in the right of it. "It get's damn old being wrong all the time!" Bill had mock complained.

Waving off the two most important women in his life, Harry twirled his fingers in a 'get on with it' motion.

Hermione rolled her eyes before finishing, "Well, there isn't much more to say. Daddy apologized profusely to me." Her expression became contemplative, "He's never really treated me like an adult before. Mainly because I wasn't," she laughed to herself. "But last night, he really humbled himself." She looked at her lap, where her fingers were entwined, "It was a bit scary."

Neville and Susan were in fine spirits. Over the summer, they'd met up a few times. The second time, Neville had worked up the courage to ask Susan to be his girlfriend, to which she enthusiastically agreed.

"So, she kissed your lips off in Chatsworth House's gardens?" Harry asked with a grin. He'd recommended the Derbyshire manor house and associated magnificent 105-acre gardens to Neville as a trip worth taking. Not that Harry'd ever been there himself, but he'd read about the home of the Duke of Devonshire in primary school. From what the Goblins intimated, the Potter home in the same county was not nearly so grand, but still very nice.

Neville blushed, but Susan had no such scruples. "Yep," she answered for her new boyfriend. She surveyed him with an air of proprietorship that he returned in his shy way.

Harry and Gabi traded loving smiles. They really liked Neville, considered him a good friend. Susan they didn't know so well, but what they did know, they liked. If she was as good for him as it appeared, well, all to the better.

Susan had some interesting stories now that her Aunt and guardian was Minister.

"When Lestrange and her boobies tried to breach the wards, it was incredible how stupid they were. None of them were ward breakers. Lestrange was obviously insane, what with her shrieking and whatnot. Do you know, that when they revived her in the holding cells, she demanded to be released so she could carry out her master's wishes?"

Shaking her head at the obvious insanity, Susan continued her rant, "Her compatriots were a mix of mental defectives and stooges. I have no idea what Voldemort was thinking but the Aurors had the three of them in custody within minutes of their arriving at our house."

Harry took in all that she was saying with a hint of confusion. Voldemort wasn't stupid. Insane, yes. But not stupid. Why throw away one of his most powerful terror weapons that was Bellatrix Lestrange? Just her name made people shudder, second only to the 'You-Know-Who' and 'He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named' garbage.

The five friends chatted about Quidditch, the Twins' shop and their travels over the summer the rest of the way to school

.oOo.

Flitwick had been selected by the board to remain the Headmaster, McGonagall as his Deputy. Returning to the practice of the previous Heads, Flitwick was teaching the NEWT Charms classes while Professor Llewellyn was to teach Fifth year and below. The Welshwoman also replaced the amiable Flitwick as the Ravenclaw head of house.

Slughorn was back. Harry groaned when he saw the rotund man eagerly scanning the crowd of students. It was obvious when the Potion Master found Harry and Gabrielle in the throng. His round face brightened perceptibly as he began to make nodding and acknowledging motions toward the couple as if they were long lost friends.

They were about to take their seats at the Gryffindor table, when Professor McGonagall swept down from the Head table. Motioning the Potters to the side, the Transfiguration Mistress welcomed them back to school. "We'll continue your self-paced study in the wanded subjects."

Speaking to Harry she continued, "I received your OWL score for Runes; well done Mr. Potter. I've enrolled you and your wife in the Sixth Year Rune class, as well as, the Magical Government and Estate Planning courses you selected."

Harry nodded in acknowledgement. Gabrielle had been most insistent that she attend the Government and Estate Planning courses with him. How could she support him intelligently if she had no idea what he was talking about half the time?

"Neither of you want to continue Potions or Herbology?" she asked for clarification. When the Potters shook their heads rather definitely, she gave a half smile and continued, "Very well, your quarters are the same as last year. Headmaster Flitwick has made time to continue your advanced Charms studies and we have Professor Shacklebolt returning as the Defence professor. He has agreed to private tutoring as well. I believe we shall continue in the same vein as we did last year; you shall attend class but self-study during the period. That seemed to work well."

After pausing to see if there were any questions, McGonagall drew herself up before declaring, "Mr. Potter, as far as your performance at the Quidditch match this summer," her face softened into a real smile, "Well done! And thank you for the tickets, Professor Flitwick and I enjoyed the match. Well done indeed!"

As the older witch made her way to the back of the Great Hall to receive the First Years, she muttered, "Ploughed her something fierce!"

.oOo.

Harry hadn't seen any Aurors when they first entered the castle, but assumed they were there Disillusioned or under invisibility cloaks. The next day at lunch, the Aurors were not only seen, but making a noticeable presence.

As each student entered the Great Hall, he or she was directed to an Auror. The students were required to roll up their sleeves to the elbow to be inspected by the law enforcement officer. Harry gave Gabrielle a look of deep approval at what was obviously an attempt to discover if any of the student body had taken the Dark Mark.

When he noticed there were French Aurors standing by and observing the process, Harry was curious. "Do you know what they're doing here?" he asked his wife surreptitiously. She only shook her head, a confused expression on her face. It appeared the British Aurors were executing the search of the student body while the French were back up, as it were.

Harry caught Auror D'artagn's eye and nodded. Receiving his acknowledgement in turn, Harry moved to another Auror he recognized.

Tonks' hair was bright yellow this morning as she greeted him, "Good morning, my Lord. If you'd please roll your sleeves to the elbow, I'd be most appreciative."

Harry complied and watched Tonks first visually inspect his arm before casting a series of detection spells over each forearm. As she bent close to his arms to perform a Revealing spell, Harry whispered, "Find any yet?" She didn't say anything, just slowly shook her head.

After a few minutes, she dismissed him in her cheerful way before shouting, "Next!"

It took a while, but eventually the entire student body was checked. One First year had managed to land himself in the hospital wing already, so an Auror was dispatched to check the young boy in the spirit of completeness.

Flitwick rose before the meal started. Just like the previous evening, he stood on his chair so the assembled students could see him. "Thank you all for your cooperation during the security check. You may or may not be aware, but there is a permanent Auror garrison here in the castle now. There are mixtures of British and French Aurors in the unit, all of whom have the jurisdiction to investigate any crime perpetrated her at Hogwarts and arrest any suspect. This is merely a security precaution now that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned. I ask you all to cooperate with any and all orders or requests from the Hogwarts Garrison. Enjoy your meal."

Harry grabbed a sandwich before pouring milk for himself and Gabrielle. "So, did anyone get arrested?" he asked.

Hermione shook her head. "I got here a bit early as Potions let out ten minutes before time. I was the second person checked and I didn't see anyone get led away or the like."

"Not even Malfoy?"

She shook her head in reply.

Harry frowned as he looked up and down the Slytherin table looking for the tow headed ferret. Finding him, Harry wasn't surprised to see Malfoy staring at Harry with a malicious smirk on his face.

From his side, Gabrielle offered, "One doesn't need to be marked to be a Death Eater."

Unsettled, Harry nodded in agreement and began his meal, unsure as to what horrific occurrence was to plague him this year.

.oOo.

ASSASINATION ATTEMPT ON BONES THWARTED

"Crap, crap, crap," Harry muttered to himself.

"You know, you'll have to clean up your mouth when we have children." Gabi smiled to her husband, "I'll not have them sounding like sailors. Can you imagine Mama's reaction as she holds baby Potter and the first word out of his mouth is 'crap'?"

They both began to rollick in laughter as the visual of Marie's perfect coiffure trembling in her anger. "Directed at baby Potter's parents, of course. Le petite bebé in her arms would be the living embodiment of perfection," Harry observed through his laughter.

Slowly, the laughter tapered off to chuckles. After wiping his eyes, a realization struck Harry stone still. A long moment later, he asked, "You want to have kids?"

Gabrielle had a pleasantly curious expression when she countered, "Of course. But not just children, I want to have _your_ children. Not much could make me happier."

Completely stunned by the idea that she loved him so much that she wanted to have his children, Harry didn't respond. Gabrielle continued, "Don't get me wrong, I won't be one of those socialite women who pop out an heir and a spare and then flit from party to party." Her tender expression returned as she concluded, "But I very much want to be the mother of your children."

Harry smiled in response until she asked, "So what has you fouling the air with your language?"

"Oh, yeah. Someone tried to kill Amelia."

"Really? How?"

He scanned the article, "Hmm, looks like a clerk under the Imperius forced his way past the security outside her office and Amelia herself took the poor sap down. St. Mungo's doesn't know if they can save him. Apparently his brain is mush after the spell broke."

Gabrielle tapped her chin in thought. "I wonder how long the clerk was under the Imperius."

"Why?"

"It would explain why there were no marked Death Eaters in the castle."

Harry groaned, "Voldemort knew the check was going to happen, so he didn't mark his newest followers."

"What else has been leaked, I wonder?" she mused, pushing her crepe from one side of her breakfast plate to the other.

"Do you think it would be presumptuous of us to tell the Auror Garrison our suspicion?" he asked.

"Can't hurt. What would they say other than 'we know'?"

Harry didn't want to be officious sticking his nose where it didn't belong. Nevertheless, he had demonstrated that he had a different perspective allowing him to see circumstances in a different light. "I'll tell Tonks or D'artagn after lunch."

.oOo.

"Yeah, we figured that," Tonks explained to Harry. They were sitting at her desk in one of the expanded classrooms the Garrison had taken over. He'd just laid out all his and Gabrielle's ideas from the morning.

Reaching for a small booklet, Tonks continued, "Hammer is going mad. She's drawn up this list of security precautions that make old Mad-Eye look like the model for liberal thinking."

Harry chuckled, "Is she bringing him out of retirement to run security for the Ministry?"

Tonks' only response was a baleful glare.

"What about here?"

Shrugging, the young Auror reached for another stack of forms to fill out. "Expect random dormitory searches. Probably personal searches as well."

Snapping her fingers, Tonks remembered, "Oh yeah, the Unspeakables will be here next weekend to go down to the Chamber of Secrets. You available?"

Harry pulled out the organizer that Hermione and Gabrielle had ganged up on him and forced him to use. "I've Quidditch tryouts on Saturday. Katie asked me to be there to help her pick the new team."

"What time?"

"Nine to about noon, probably."

"No problem. They'll be here after lunch."

Nodding to himself, he pulled his new pocket watch out to check the time.

"That's nice," Tonks commented. "Not many people carry a pocket watch anymore. Where'd you get that?"

"My father in law gave it to me for my birthday. I was admiring his at the beginning of the summer so he thought he'd do me the favour."

"It's beautiful."

"Yeah, I really like it." Harry gazed at the Patek Philippe watch, remembering Henri giving it to him in his study. It had been one of many 'Father/Son' moments for the two over the summer. He'd grown very close to his father in law this last summer and had truly come to love the man.

"Anyway, it's telling me that I'm going to be late for my Magical Government class if I don't get moving."

"Later," Tonks mumbled as she dug into the stack of forms.

.oOo.

Harry and Gabrielle walked out of their first Magical Government class a mixture of appalled and intrigued. The Wizengamot was the only governing congress in Europe that was not an elected body. Le Confederation Magique in France, El Parlamento in Spain and so on were at least partially elected. Many had a block of hereditary seats alongside the representative seats.

What was intriguing was the power that the Ancient and Noble houses wielded in Britain. True, some families had abused this power for personal gain, but the opportunity for real change was at hand. House Black, House Potter, House Longbottom, House Bones. They were all like-minded thinkers who were of an age together, (Sirius was Harry's age emotionally, Gabrielle had commented).

A bone of contention for Harry with magical Britain was the incredible bigotry that had been legislated. He would never bring it up to Gabi, but he was incensed by her classification as a 'Dark Creature'. He knew it bothered her so he refrained from ever mentioning it.

On many levels, Harry didn't think that Magical Britain was worth his time. The cynical part of him thought to make a mint of money, live well off the sheep and then walk away. Voldemort was a necessary task that he needed to fulfil for his own reason, not for the mob. The animal known as Voldemort had killed his parents, tried to kill his sister and Harry knew that Gabrielle was next on the Dark Lord's list. There was very little 'civic duty' in his desire to dispatch Tom Riddle.

Taking Gabrielle's bag and tossing it over his shoulder, he had to smile to himself. In Fourth Year, Hermione had started an organization that lasted three hours. The Society for the Protection of Elfish Welfare had died a quick death once Gabrielle had explained the facts of House Elf life to Hermione.

Now, Harry's feelings regarding the rights of non-human magical beings were becoming stronger. His wife was only accorded a bare minimum of courtesy in British society because of her family and husband. If Gabrielle had married anyone other than Lord Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived, she would be treated much differently indeed. This fact incensed Harry as they wended their way to the Great Hall for lunch.

Maybe he'd make Hermione the treasurer of his society. Call it C.R.A.P.. The Consolidated Right-thinkers Against Prejudice. Maybe combine with Hermione's society and call it S.P.E.W. C.R.A.P.; it fit with Harry's general opinion of politics in general. His father in law excepted, of course. His furore passed as he laughed the rest of the way to lunch. Gabrielle eyed her husband with an amused expression wondering what was running around in the hamster cage he called a brain.

.oOo.

Estate Planning and Management was a very difficult course. Investments, Property Management, Agriculture overview and Business Law were all covered in this two-year course. There were only a few persons in the class besides Harry and Gabrielle. Unfortunately, one was Draco Malfoy.

The Ferret had been fairly quiet so far this term. No taunts, slurs or other drivel had dribbled out of his mouth in the general direction of the Potters. At least when they were in earshot, that is.

Harry was struggling with the new class. He'd taken Maths in primary school where he had barely covered fractions and long division before going off to Hogwarts. Now he was struggling uphill in trying to compute rates of return for compound interest, compound complex interest and return on investment. To say he was frustrated was an understatement.

Gabrielle had tried to help, but it was Hermione who had really facilitated his break through. Professor Rockefeller didn't explain the 'how' of the maths, just the 'what' of the equation at hand. Hermione was able to help Harry learn all the functions in arithmetic and a smattering of algebra. When Hermione had begun explaining secants, tangents and cotangents, Gabrielle had stepped in and put a stop to it. "Later, Hermione. We can teach him trigonometry next year."

"But you're not planning to come back next year."

Gabrielle's only response was a pointed look.

"Oh. Well, I'll draw up a few sheets of practice equations to help drill you on your maths. I think you've got it, though."

A half hour later, Harry rubbed his face spreading some ink stains from his fingertips to his cheeks and forehead. When he handed over his sheet to Hermione for correction, he didn't understand why the ladies in his life were giggling.

Finally, Gabrielle took pity on him and charmed the ink away.

"You could have just done that right away."

"Aww, is Harry embarrassed?"

Harry muttered something that sounded a bit like 'ah bugger', but answered, "Nothing," when asked to repeat himself.

"My Lord, my Lady, the Headmaster is at your door."

"Please, my Lord Zeus, let Professor Flitwick enter."

A moment later, the perpetually jovial Headmaster and Charms professor entered the Potters' suite. Harry sat up straight when he saw the Headmaster's serious mien.

Addressing Gabrielle, he explained his presence, "My Lady, I regret to inform you that your sister has been gravely injured in an attack on her residence. She is currently in St. Mungo's; her prognosis is unknown."

.oOo.

The three of them used Professor McGonagall's fireplace to Floo to the hospital. Harry hurried to the receptionist to find where his sister in law was being treated. Connie Hammer intercepted him and steered the distraught teens to the fourth floor – spell damage.

Gabrielle was beyond frantic and had moved into terrified as they hurried down the corridors. Harry was stalking in front of her and glaring at anyone who dared impede their progress. Hermione had wrapped her arm around her French friend and half supported, half embraced her as they moved to Fleur's room.

They knew they'd found Fleur when rounding a corner they saw two red-robed Aurors flanking a door. Connie hadn't spoken a word beyond, "Follow me." Now, she motioned for the family to wait. Disappearing in the door for a few seconds, she quickly reappeared with a smile, "Go on in."

Harry charged in, holding the door for Gabrielle and Hermione. They saw a very pale Fleur sleeping in bed, Bill sitting next to her.

With red-rimmed eyes, Bill looked up and announced, "She's going to make it. It was touch and go for a while, but she'll live."

Gabrielle burst into tears of relief, so Harry embraced her. He held her for his own sake as much as hers. His head felt light and a touch dizzy in his relief. They were in turn supported by Hermione who wrapped her arms around her best friends.

The three friends stood there for a long minute before calming. Connie had slipped away, but Bill was still there. With a quick flick of his wand, Harry conjured three chairs and they all sat.

"Henri and Marie?" Harry asked.

"Marie's here, Henri is on the way," Bill answered. "He was in a meeting with the President from which he couldn't break away. We expect him within the hour."

Harry nodded. Needing more of his proximity, Gabrielle moved from her chair to sit in her husband's lap. The room was silent as the four friends – family really – watched Fleur.

"What happened?" Gabrielle asked.

"We had the day off and had decided to picnic up in Nottingham Forest. I know an area in the middle of the Forest that's just beautiful," the tall redhead's expression slackened, "It's very peaceful." Shaking his head to banish the unpleasant memories he was buried under, he continued, "I ran to the bank for some last minute muggle cash as we were going to do a bit of shopping later. That was around ten o'clock. I got back ten minutes later to find her holding off four Death Eaters."

He shook his head in admiration, "She was amazing. She'd already killed two and when I apparated in she used the distraction to take down two more. The remaining two decided to portkey out, but one of the bastards hit her with an Asphyxiation curse. It was a mean one, immediately knocking her out. I didn't know the counter, so I apparated her directly to the hospital and began screaming. I hadn't even blinked when they whisked her away."

He rubbed his hands across his face to wipe away the cascading tears. The woman he loved had been moments from being lost to him forever. "The healers said she was seconds from permanent brain damage. They believe that with an intense potion regimen she'll be alright."

After a long interval, Gabrielle whispered, "Thank you, Bill."

Without looking at his future sister in law, Bill muttered, "I had to. I need her."

The door opened, admitting a pale faced Henri and a red-eyed Marie. "She will be well, Papa," Gabrielle clarified for her parents.

The tension left Henri as he sagged into his wife's arms. Marie began to weep anew in her husband's embrace. "She will live. She will live," he repeated to reassure the both of them.

It was a quiet afternoon, the family sitting vigil at Fleur's bedside. Occasionally one of them would head to the toilet or stretch their legs in a quick walk up and down the ward. Hermione showed herself to be a pearl of great value by anticipating the family's needs and satisfying them without a fuss. She nipped up to the fifth floor for a pot of tea and snacks. Later, she fetched the healer for an update on Fleur's status. Coordinating with the security to keep the press off the floor had been quite easy when speaking for Henri Delacour and Harry Potter. Gently taking down a press release from Henri and Harry and passing it out to the reporters gathered in the reception area made the fourth estate happy, which kept them away from the fourth floor. Running out later in the evening, she arrived with Chinese take away for the family.

She returned to find Fleur drowsy, but awake. Henri was asking, "How are you my Flower?"

"Head hurts."

Nodding, he told her, "The healer said it would. It's completely normal. He told us you will make a complete recovery."

Fleur closed her eyes as she nodded. Licking her lips she looked at the faces gathered. She nodded and smiled to her sister and Harry, but passed over them. Finding her scarlet haired paramour, she stopped and reached for him with her free hand.

More tears flowed as Bill croaked, "I'm sorry."

Slowly shaking her head, she whispered, "Not your fault. Love you," before she drifted off to the in between land of sleep and potion induced unconsciousness.

Fleur's waking helped everyone find an appetite of sorts. As Gabrielle showed Harry how to use his chopsticks, an idea occurred to him. Leaning into his wife, he asked what she thought. After receiving her nod of approval, he turned to his red-headed future brother in law, "Bill, we'd like to offer Rowan Hill for the two of you when Fleur is released."

At Bill's surprised expression, Harry elaborated, "The warders have been working on the estate's defences for a full year now. I'd like you to take a look at what they've done, but for what we've paid, it should be the best warded home in all of Britain."

"Harry, I'm…well, 'touched' doesn't come close. Thank you. I'm sure Fleur will agree as well. Thank you."

"Just stay out of the Master suite, mate. That's our room," Harry teased to general laughter from his family.

.oOo.

The morning of Quidditch tryouts, Gabrielle was in a less than pleasant mood. "Harry! Where did you put my inkwell?"

Mystified, he responded, "I didn't touch it, love. Is it on your desk?"

"If it was on my desk, I wouldn't have asked! I always leave it on my desk. I never move it. What did you do with it?"

With a spark of annoyance, Harry slowly turned to Gabrielle and answered very deliberately. "I did not move, nor touch, your inkwell. If you'd like my help finding your one ounce of obviously invaluable ink, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop barking at me."

Her face contorted in a snarl, readying her retort. With her lips forming the first words, a look of realization passed across her features, followed quickly by an expression of remorse.

Running to him, she embraced Harry with as much fervour as she had used in castigating him just before. "I'm so sorry!"

Holding her in his arms, he used gentle strokes as he rubbed her back. "Hush, love. You've had a hell of a week. If a little barking is all I get, we're doing alright."

She nodded against his chest. Stiffening in realization, she turned toward the bedroom, pulling him with her.

"What's going on?" he asked.

In a low voice, she muttered, "I need you."

The whole thing felt off – wrong somehow. Frowning, he asked, "You want to make love? Now?"

Without looking at him, she stripped off her T-shirt followed by her brassiere. Harry was in a quandary. His incredibly beautiful, sexy, talented wife was getting naked in front of him. At the same time, the whole situation wasn't right. She wouldn't even look at him, much less the usual flirting, loving words they exchanged in their carnal dances.

She pulled the covers up and tossed her skirt and knickers on the floor. Patting Harry's side of the bed, she beckoned.

Now he was worried. She was never this businesslike about their lovemaking.

Fully clothed, he sat on the edge of the bed and turned to face her. Harry was surprised when she looked him in the face. He saw worry and fear there. "What's wrong, my love?"

Fidgeting with the sheet, she shook her head for a short moment, denying anything was wrong. When Harry only stared at her in response, she sighed. "I'm not giving in. Yet." he finished with humour.

She gave a mirthless smile. Surrendering to his persistence, she explained, "I just realized we haven't made love all week."

Being male and therefore not so quick on the uptake in these situations, Harry was confused. He thought he had an inkling of the issue so he tried his best to reassure his wife. "True. I don't mind."

Her temper spun right back up to where it had been a few minutes before. With an annoyed expression, she repeated what he'd said with more than a little sarcasm, "You don't _mind_?"

He was sincerely honest, but expressing himself as poorly as an American in Paris. "No, I don't mind. A lot has been going on this week. I don't feel put upon or anything."

She responded with full-bore sarcasm. Waving her hands in mock relief, she exclaimed, "Wonderful! Thank the Creator that Harry Potter doesn't feel put upon because he hasn't been laid in five days!"

Now Harry was hurt. Ridicule had been the coin he was paid with when he'd been honest and tried to be supportive – no matter the ineptitude he'd shown in the effort. Without responding to her barb, he stood, straightened his pants and left her in bed.

Fifteen minutes later, a fully dressed Gabrielle came out to their common room fully dressed. Harry had his back to the door, bent over his Magical Government text reading about appropriation processes and the matching taxation requirements.

"I'm sorry."

Harry turned in his chair to find her standing in the middle of the room, wringing her hands in anxiety.

"Me, too."

Moving to her, he firmly embraced her. "I hate it when we fight."

Muffled against his chest, she agreed, "Me too."

Harry held her until she moved to break away. He'd known her long enough to let her tell the story on her terms. Leaning against his desk, he waited.

She moved to the window and looked out at the lawn in the morning light. Without turning back to him, she explained, "I slept badly last night – again." She'd not had a good night's sleep since Fleur had been hurt.

"So I was already grumpy. By the way, my inkwell was on the nightstand."

With a half smile, he asked, "How'd it get there?"

"No idea."

Nodding in acceptance, he waited.

"When you gave me that hug, I thought to myself, 'This is nice, I haven't been in your arms for a while.' That sparked the thought about the last time we'd been together. After some quick math I realized it had been longer than we've ever gone since we've been married."

Bowing her head to hide her face in the curtain of her hair, she admitted, "Part of our marriage is for us to have sex and I felt like I'd let you down."

Shocked, Harry held out his hand and grasped her shoulder. "Just because we're married doesn't mean you _have_ to sleep with me. I want you to want me, not _have_ to be with me." With more than a hint of trepidation, he asked, "Do you feel that way? That you're obligated to have sex with me?"

"NO!" she declared. "This is the first time the idea has ever crossed my mind! I love you. I love making love with you." Moving to him, she framed his face, "I'm so sorry. I've been a complete ass about this. I just didn't want to be letting you down."

Heaving a sigh of relief, he offered, "What do you say we forget all about this." A playful smile flitted across his features as he pulled her close. "Though, you stripping off like that isn't easy to forget."

She gave him a genuine smile of affection. Her nimble hands headed south when she asked, "Really?"

His response was to gather her in his arms and carry her into the bedroom. There is a gulf of difference between making love to the love of your life and sex. They both preferred the former and so they indulged themselves this early September morning.

.oOo.

Standing on the Hogwarts Quidditch pitch, Harry wasn't feeling very enthused about his chosen profession. Fleur had some complications in recovering from the attack, therefore her hospitalization had continued the entire week. Harry had helped Bill move all their joint possessions to Rowan Hill. Afterwards, he keyed Bill and Fleur, along with Henri and Marie, into the wards. He had a fleeting thought of relinquishing control of the wards to Bill but reconsidered. No one would be master of his home but Harry Potter. It was a lesson his parents hadn't learned.

Glancing to his left, he saw Gabrielle and Hermione sitting at a large conjured table with an Arithmancy project sprawled across most of it. It was a beautiful late summer day, so the ladies had opted to watch the Quidditch tryouts with half an eye while hammering away at Professor Vector's massive winter term assignment.

Harry and Gabi's 'making up' had been…brilliant. He smothered a smile when she looked up, met his eye and winked.

Unfortunately, the Quidditch team was not looking too brilliant. Katie was captain this year, which wasn't the problem, per se. Harry figured she'd do fine and it could help her in signing with a professional team. Thinking about her prospects, though, he figured that after the Wimbourne match this past summer and the lobbying by Angelina, Alicia, the Twins and Oliver, Harry figured she wouldn't have any real problems being signed.

McLaggen was back as keeper, also. His bombastic attitude from the beginning of the previous year had not made a reappearance for which Harry and Katie were very grateful.

The beater situation was nearly dire. Jack Sloper and Andrew Kirke were the worst of the crop. The two fourth years had been hitting a bludger back and forth in a strengthening and accuracy drill when it happened. Kirke knew the bludger was there. He saw it coming at him, as he'd just hit it to Sloper. For some reason its presence surprised him, causing him to shriek as it passed close by. The inept beater promptly fell off his broom.

Luckily, he'd only been ten feet off the ground. His luck continued for all involved in that he'd suffered a concussion, which prevented him from continuing his Quidditch career.

Richie Coote and Bobby Peakes weren't bad, so they were tapped for the starting beater positions. They were strapping second years that were decent on a broom. The only knock on them was a lack experience. Neither had ever played in a Quidditch match in their life.

Ginny Weasley turned out to be a superior flyer. She surprised both Harry and Katie in the flying drills. Slaloming in and out of the poles, she'd finished the course a full twenty seconds faster than the second place time. Unfortunately, her small stature at 5'2" was a liability when going up against the stronger, larger lines. Her agility on a broom compensated somewhat. Demelza Robbins, a third year, was tall for her age and a solid flyer. Katie was resigned to these two girls replacing two thirds of the best chaser line Hogwarts had seen in years.

The '96 Gryffindor team would be above average, but couldn't hold a candle to the team of last year, much less the '93 team. Sighing, he straddled his broom and ascended to fly tandem with Katie as they watched chaser drills.

A few seconds later, he was next to her. Without looking at him, she pronounced, "We're gonna suck."

Amused that her thoughts mirrored his of a few minutes ago, he smiled. "Nah, we don't suck. We just won't be the powerhouse team we've been."

Katie nodded in agreement. A mad gleam formed in her eye as her face morphed into a contemplative expression. Harry briefly wondered if the Quidditch Captain's badge caused temporary insanity for the wearer. First Oliver, then Angelina and now Katie.

They watched Ginny Weasley defend a 3 on 1 chaser attack with McLaggen and Peakes filling in as second and third chaser. She did well and broke up the attack. The second time, she was flattened when McLaggen used his bulk to fly right over her.

"She needs a growth potion or something," Katie muttered about the diminutive Weasley. Katie was no giant, but she was a respectable 5'9". Angelina had been the tallest of 'The Girls' at 6'0" and Alicia right behind her at 5'10". No one had muscled The Girls.

Eventually, practice ended. Harry and Katie simultaneously announced, "We've a lot to do." Laughing, they headed back to the castle.

.oOo.

After a shower by Harry and a quick bite to eat, Harry and Gabrielle headed to the second floor girl's bathroom. Outside the lavatory, there was a veritable troop of people. The Headmaster and Deputy were talking with three men and two women who Harry assumed were Unspeakables.

The Potters were in old robes better suited to degreasing an engine than attending a dinner party. Harry smothered a smile at the robes of two Unspeakables. Their fine silk would be taking a beating this afternoon.

"Ah, my Lord. My Lady," Flitwick piped in his squeaky voice. Harry and Gabrielle had debated Flitwick's heritage. Goblin? Dwarf? Gnome? "House Elf," Harry had insisted as they lay in bed, giggling madly.

Shaking his head to clear the thought, Harry nodded in greeting to the Headmaster before turning politely to the others. He smiled amiably while he waited to be introduced.

"Ah, yes." Flitwick cleared his throat. "Our visitors are unnamed persons who work for the Ministry."

Harry quirked an eyebrow at the Headmaster. He turned to the visitors with a smile, declaring, "Unspeakables then." Harry strongly disliked the 'no-name' practice of the Unspeakables. It smacked of the SIS, KGB and CIA where they postured to be above the law. There was no reason whatsoever for their anonymity except a self-perpetuated declaration of need.

He scrutinized them. The two youngest men were barely in their twenties. They looked away from his intense stare. The oldest of the visitors was a silver haired man who not only returned Harry's gaze, but began laughing.

Recognizing that his game of intimidation was up, Harry joined the man in laughter. Gesturing toward the sink, Harry asked the man, "Shall we?"

Somewhat confused, the older man nodded. Harry moved to the sink, Gabrielle in his wake. "§_Open_§."

As the sink move aside exposing the slide entry, everyone in the lavatory was silent. For all present it was the first time they'd heard Parseltongue, much less seen the entrance of the fabled Chamber of Secrets.

Gesturing at the slide, Harry explained, "This isn't the Chamber proper. This is a slide that goes down for a good while. Say, a good minute or so. After that is a large cavern, which is about a mile long. It's currently blocked by a cave-in that occurred the last time I was down there."

Turning to the Professors, he elaborated with one word. "Lockhart." McGonagall rolled her eyes in remembrance while Flitwick snorted at the memory of the incompetent fraud. Returning his attention to the entry slide, he continued, "After the long cavern is where the entrance to the Chamber proper will be found." Looking around, he asked, "Questions?"

It was a bit amusing for Gabrielle to see her husband lecturing his professors and elders. When they all shook their head on cue, she couldn't smother the laughter that bubbled up. Harry winked at her, extended his elbow and asked his wife, "Shall we?"

.oOo.

The trip to the Chamber of Secrets was slightly anti-climactic for Gabrielle in one sense. In quite a different way, it was a day she'd remember for the rest of her life. Despite Harry's very detailed descriptions of the happenings during his second year in the underground facility, she had been expecting something grand or mysterious. All she had found was a mildewed cavern with snakes carved on every available surface. There had also been an enormous snake carcass that had caused two of the Unspeakables to utter a little shriek as they entered the Chamber.

"What a creepy man he must have been," she had muttered as they walked toward the huge statue Slytherin had carved of himself.

Harry gave a little laugh while nodding his head in agreement. "Old Salazar seems to be a poster child for the Dark Ages 'Egotistical Maniac of the Year'."

Gabrielle smiled at his weak joke, but the expression quickly faded. Her husband's face was slightly pale in the magical light. She wrapped her arm around his waist in an attempt to allay the memories that must be washing over him. Nodding to her with a touch of a smile, he wondered aloud, "I always thought he must be an incredibly egotistical fool. Who carves a huge statue of _themselves _on the wall of their self-named 'Chamber of Secrets'? How pretentious."

Nodding agreement, she wrinkled her nose at the unpleasant odours in the Chamber. Strangely, the stink of mildew, mould and wet was more overpowering than the rank of the decaying carcass. The cool temperatures and the natural magical protections of a basilisk had slowed the decay of the corpse.

Nonetheless, all present soon had cast the Bubblehead charm on themselves before beginning the exploration of the cavern. Harry opened the mouth of the statue with another self-aggrandizing password; "§_Speak to me Slytherin, greatest of the Hogwarts four_§."

Gabrielle had shaken her head when Harry translated for her. "Incredible," she muttered in disgust.

The Potters assisted in the investigation of the space, but after a while were drawn into the conversation between the Headmaster and the Deputy.

"My Lord," Flitwick asked as he gestured to the slain Basilisk, "Do you have plans for the carcass?"

Harry understood where Flitwick was heading with his question. The carcass was Harry's property under the Dragonslayer Law of 1066. He'd never really considered harvesting the Basilisk before, the memories of almost dying down here were not ones he liked to remember. Now, though, he might make some good come of the entire debacle.

"Headmaster, if you would arrange a team of harvesters, I am willing to donate all proceeds of the sale of my trophy to Hogwarts. I think establishing a scholarship fund for the underprivileged would be good use of half the proceeds. Don't you agree?"

If half went to this new scholarship program, the other half went to the schools operating fund. With a large grin, Flitwick agreed profusely, "I think that is a most excellent idea, my Lord. I'll arrange it forthwith."

Gabrielle and McGonagall became entwined in a discussion of the finer points of the first corollary to the eight law of Transfiguration. Fifteen minutes later, Gabrielle looked around for her husband. Finding him standing alone off to the side of the Chamber, she quietly approached him and wrapped her arms around him from behind. She figured the memories were too thick for him.

"I died right here," he whispered.

Her shock was palpable.

Releasing him from her embrace, she moved to his side and looked down on the stones where he indicated. There was a dark stain that must have been semi-dried blood. His blood.

A wave of nausea washed over her. He had been so close to dying before she had ever known him. Before she ever loved him or had been loved by him in turn. Tears coursed down her face as she pulled him to herself. The trials of his life seemed so academic to her at times. Sometimes, it seemed like a dream to her; no one could endure all that had been thrown at him in his short life. The stone, the Chamber and so on.

The puddle of his congealed blood on the floor of this underground chamber wasn't academic, though. It was real and it scared her. It shook Gabrielle to her very foundations, because Harry had nearly or possibly even died in actuality. No one knew exactly what happened when he had been bitten by the basilisk and then subsequently healed by Fawkes. Even the full powers of the Phoenix were not understood. If Harry could have died down here, he could very well die today, or tomorrow or...

Her involuntary shudders were soothed when Harry wrapped her in his arms. Seemingly reading her mind, he murmured, "Hey, it's Ok. I'm fine now and will be in the future. It's going to be fine in the end and we'll have a bunch of beautiful children to run around the woods of Rowan Hill or the beach at White Rock. I'll make love to you under the stars on the deck of the _Gabi_ as much as I can. We are going to make it," he finished with an intensity that was inspiring.

"How do you know?" she asked with a small voice.

"Because I have to. I love you and will settle for nothing less."

.oOo.

Harry was heading to the library to research a topic for Transfiguration. Since he and Gabrielle were on an independent study track, they had much more research than normal sixth years were assigned. Gabrielle and Hermione were in Arithmancy, a class which Harry was eternally grateful that he'd not enrolled. With the mathematical struggles he was experiencing in Estate Planning, he knew he'd be buried in Arithmancy.

So it was that Harry was alone and humming to himself a little ditty that he'd heard on the wireless that morning. As he rounded a corner, Draco Malfoy proved to the Universe that he was incapable of learning from his own mistakes.

"Potter," snarled the Ferret-Who-Bounced.

With a pleasant expression on his face, Harry answered with a placid, "Yes?"

Taken aback by the mildness of Harry's response, Malfoy stared at the young man he hated above all others. Finally, he sputtered, "You've crossed me for the last time."

Malfoy's rant was interrupted by Harry's near-hysterical laughter. "Oh, Draco," Harry wheezed. "You really need a new line. Each time you say 'You've crossed me for the last time,' I kick your sorry arse into the next week. One would think you could have something original."

Malfoy scowled and narrowed his eyes. Nodding to the bookends, he ordered, "Get him."

Without pausing in his laughter, Harry exploded into motion. Lashing out with his left leg, he kicked Crabbe in the right kneecap. The hulking teen began screaming as he fell to the ground, his kneecap having been dislocated. The small disc of bone could now be found halfway up his thigh as opposed to its usual spot.

Goyle grabbed for Harry. Ducking underneath the dim-witted boy, Harry spun and punched Goyle as hard as he could in the left kidney. Three rapid strikes brought the boy to his knees, mouth open in silent agony.

When Goyle finally fell to the ground, Harry explained in his still mild tone, "You'll probably piss blood for a few weeks. If it lasts longer, see Madam Pomfrey about it."

Turning to the Malfoy scion, Harry regarded the boy with raised eyebrows and a look that asked, 'Would you like a taste'?

Malfoy's response was to shakily reach for his wand. Harry said nothing; merely half closed his eyes and shook his head while wagging a finger at the boy.

"Draco, I think it's time I explain a few things to you."

Malfoy's hand froze halfway to his wand.

"First, I could kill you whenever I decide to take that step. You know it and so do I. Hell, the entire castle knows. Second, I tire of these little games. I believe that misters Crabbe and Goyle will not be so eager to assist you the next time you try to enlist them in a venture like this, so it's down to just you."

Slowly closing the blond boy, Harry stared into his grey eyes. "This is your last warning, Draco. Next time, you will bleed and quite possibly die." He paused, allowing this salient point to sink through the bigoted boy's delusions of grandeur. "Are we clear?"

Shakily, Malfoy nodded his acquiescence.

"Just a little reminder. Hermione Granger is protected by House Potter and House Black. Move against her in any way, shape or form and I will destroy you in every possible way."

Nodding again, Draco turned to Goyle and Crabbe. His pale face burning red with shame and rage, he slowly drew his wand. With a muttered, "Mobilcorpus," he levitated his flunkies in order to take them to the Infirmary.

Harry couldn't resist rubbing it in a little. Before Malfoy disappeared, he called out, "Bye Draco! Have a nice day!"

Malfoy didn't look back, but if he had, Harry would have seen the Slytherin's face contorted with rage and a determination to avenge himself.

.oOo.

WIZENGAMOT DECLARES NATIONAL STATE OF EMERGENCY

"Hmm," Harry mused as he read the paper. "Susan," he asked the girl across the table from him as he indicated the headline, "What's this all about?"

With a sarcastic tone, she replied, "What does it look like?"

He rolled his eyes as Gabrielle and Hermione laughed. "Sorry. I was wondering if your Aunt initiated this, or someone else. Do you know the story?"

With a prim smile, Susan replied, "Since you asked so nicely, I'll tell you." More laughter from the ladies. "Mainly, it's being justified as a response to the incessant activity of the Death Eaters. The attack on Auntie at her office was the culmination."

Looking around to see if anyone was eavesdropping, Susan quickly cast a Privacy charm. "In truth, though, Auntie is using it as an opportunity. We all know that the Wizengamot can be purchased at the drop of a hat. She's bypassing them to take the war to the bad guys."

Hermione's face crinkled in thought. Hesitantly, she asked, "Isn't that a slippery slope, though?" When Susan turned to the girl, Hermione continued, "I mean, with all power and authority residing in the Minister's office, what happens if she dies tomorrow and is replaced by a supporter of V-V-Voldemort?" Tentatively, Hermione offered to the now silent group, "They say power corrupts even the best people. I hope she's careful."

A look of defiant protectiveness flashed across Susan's features before subsiding. Admitting the truth of the situation, Susan nodded in agreement, "I hope so, too."

Breaking the awkward silence, Gabrielle took the paper from her husband and skimmed the article. "Hmm, looks like quite a few security improvements." She was silent as she read until she uttered a low expletive, "Veritaserum questioning for all Ministry employees. Loyalty oaths are now required. Mon Dieu," she whispered after she turned the page. "Suspense of Habeas Corpus…" Gabrielle finished with an open mouth.

"But she can't!" Hermione gasped.

"Apparently, she can," Harry countered as he took back the paper from his wife's nerveless fingers.

Even Susan appeared a bit disturbed by the last declaration.

Tonks appeared at Harry's shoulder and very formally requested, "Lord Potter. Lady Potter, would you please come with me?"

Given their previous topic of discussion, the Potters exchanged a nervous look. Standing, Harry shouldered Gabrielle's satchel before following the now blue haired Auror to the Garrison's offices.

Winding through the desks, the threesome settled in the back corner as Tonks cast a few Privacy charms. "Right. Sorry about the cloak and dagger but I have a question from the Minister."

The Potters were taken aback when Tonks asked, "She wants to talk to you about a prophecy and desires to know if you have some time today to chat."

.oOo.

"Harry, Gabrielle, please have a seat," Amelia offered as she rose from behind her massive mahogany desk. Moving around her desk, she signalled to the two guards at her door. Nodding, they closed the doors giving the threesome some privacy.

"I'll cut to the chase," Amelia began. "It has been brought to my attention by the Department of Mysteries that there exists a prophecy regarding you and Lord Voldemort."

Her matter of fact directness was very soothing for Harry and Gabrielle. They'd had enough drama and were eager to deal with facts, not histrionics.

Nodding, Harry offered, "My godfather made mention of a prophecy a few months ago. I don't know the exact wording, but the substance is that it's either him or me. One of us will kill the other."

Amelia regarded the Potters with a look her Aurors knew well. She was sizing them up for their suitability for the task. Looking for more information, she mentioned, "Susan says you two are ahead on your studies."

Harry chuckled while Gabrielle smiled widely. She beat her husband to the punch when she replied, "We could have taken our NEWTs at Christmas."

"Last year?"

Gabrielle merely nodded.

Shifting in her seat, Amelia murmured, "Bugger me."

Louder, she sounded much more relieved about the situation in general, "Good. You're taking this seriously and getting as ready as you can."

Harry nodded, "At first, we didn't know about the prophecy, just that Voldemort wouldn't leave me alone and we needed to be able to protect ourselves. This summer, after Sirius told us about the prophecy…let's say that we became even more focussed."

"You're receiving private lessons from Shacklebolt?" When the Potters nodded, Amelia responded, "Good. He's one of our best trainers, we can't send much better than that. The Garrison will help protect the school," she was cataloguing items from a mental list.

Coming to the end of her internal monologue, she pointed out, "It would be counterproductive to release the existence of the prophecy to the public. The media would be clamouring for you to end him right now, when we all know you aren't really ready.

"Do you know how to finish him?"

Harry shook his head, "If he didn't die by a reflected Killing curse, I've no idea how to send him to hell. We've been working on becoming proficient enough to survive the Death Eaters to get to Voldemort."

He and Gabrielle had been duelling Shacklebolt, McGonagall and Flitwick, when the Headmaster had time. During one on one encounters, he could take them down seven out of ten times, but he invariably lost when it was two on one. Fighting alongside Gabrielle in a two on two situation, they always won. It was an oddity that none of them could explain.

He and Gabrielle had discussed it many times and both believed that the only reason Harry had so decisively beaten Snape was because the Potions Master didn't take Harry seriously.

Amelia took out her notepad and scribbled a note to herself as she mumbled, "I'll get the Unspeakables working on an end game solution for him."

There was a pause in the conversation as they all digested the news. Gesturing with her hand, Amelia asked, "Shall we go hear the exact wording?"

.oOo.

"Fucking Trelawney? You've got to be shitting me!"

Now that they were back at Hogwarts, Harry was able to loose his emotion and was fuming. Pacing back and forth in front of his wife, he gesticulated and cursed.

Gabi sat there calmly. The exact wording of the prophecy hadn't bothered her at all. There were no surprises and, unfortunately, no words of wisdom or assurance. Back in Florence over the summer, she'd resigned herself to the prophecy pitting her man against the beast that was Voldemort just like two gladiators in the ring. She had hoped the prophecy would guarantee Harry's victory, but hadn't hoped too much.

Returning her attention to her husband, she reached out and caught his arm, stopping him mid-stride. "Mon cher, calm down."

Exhaling loudly, Harry nodded in agreement. "You're right." Sitting next to her, he took her in his arms as much for himself as for her. "How did I get so lucky to get you?"

She smiled impishly, "I ask myself the same question every day."

"Why you were lucky to get me?"

"No. Why you were so lucky to get me."

"Oh, you…" he began before tickling her.

.oOo.

"We at _WWN's Person of the Hour_ are honoured to have Baron Harry Potter, the Boy-Who-Lived as our guest. Good morning, My Lord."

"Good morning, Giles."

Harry had been bombarded by requests for an interview since the summer and finally decided to give in and do…"One. I'm only doing one and the rest can go rot!" Gabi had merely rolled her eyes at his dramatics.

"What do you think about the Ministry's actions of late?"

With a bit of humour, Harry countered, "You'll have to be a bit more specific. I think their hands off approach toward the British Quidditch League is exemplary if that's what you want to know."

With a smile, Giles elaborated, "That's good to know, but to be more specific, I think our listeners want to know your opinion of the Ministry's actions in combating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named."

"I think that Minister Bones is making real progress. It's going to get worse before it gets better, but I believe we're on the right track."

"That's quite an endorsement. Is Minister Bones helping magical Britain more than her predecessor?"

Leaning back in his chair, Harry sighed. "That's a big question, Giles. I play Quidditch, I'm not a politician."

"But you have a hereditary Wizengamot seat."

"True. I believe that regarding the prosecution of the Wizarding terrorist that many call He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, Minister Bones is doing a bang up job. Outside of that arena, I am not yet educated enough to form an opinion that is worthwhile."

It had been Hermione that had insisted Harry refer to Voldemort by one of his euphemisms. "Harry, just because you're unafraid is irrelevant. The bulk of the kingdom is terrified of his name and it would be a distraction for you to insist on using it. Swallow your pride, bend your stiff neck and do it!"

"Fair enough. How's married life?"

With a wide smile, Harry answered, "I'm happier than I've ever been. Lady Potter has been a true gift from Heaven for me." After a few beats, Harry added in a joking tone, "And that's all I have to say about my marriage."

"Right. How's Hogwarts now that Headmaster Dumbledore is no longer in charge?"

The interview was covering safe topics and progressed over the next half hour. Quidditch was discussed, his parents, would he live in France after graduation and so on.

At the thirty-five minute mark, things became a bit dicey. "My Lord, it is known that Lady Potter is part Veela and, therefore, classified as a 'Dark Creature' by the Ministry. What is your opinion on this classification of not only your wife but others in similar situations? Werewolves, Vampires and the like?"

_Fuck. Well, let's bring out the big guns._

"I think the entire discussion is so laden with uninformed opinion, bigotry and fear that rational discourse is difficult to come by."

Giles stared at him.

"I think it's an abhomination that my wife is considered a Dark Creature. It's a legacy of pureblood bigotry and legislated prejudice that has been institutionalized for far too many years to count. No person of a mature and modern mind can reach any other decision."

This resulted in more staring from the interviewer. Finally, when it was clear that Harry wasn't saying anything further, Giles jumped in.

"Well." Giles Prichard had never been nonplussed while interviewing, but he was nearly there this day.

"Well," he repeated, "I see that you have a very decided opinion. What do you feel should be done to redress the wrongs you outline?"

Harry smiled with just a hint of ferocity. "Well, I think that in the end I'm a seeker. As I mentioned before, I am still learning the ins and outs of our governmental processes."

"You don't have to know how to sponsor the bill, my Lord. In general, what do you think ought to be done?"

Harry glared at Giles, nonverbally conveying his displeasure with this line of questioning. Giles shrugged, showing his surrender. For the listeners, Harry said, "I'm sure that the politicians know best how to implement reform of this type."

Clearing his throat, Giles took a deep breath. If Harry had thought the previous topic unpleasant, the next topic plumbed the depth of disagreeable discourse.

"My Lord, it is understood that you are the only one who can defeat He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. What are your plans for eradicating this menace from Britain?"

"What?"

.oOo.

"Who talked Amelia?"

Harry and Gabrielle were sitting side by side in front of the Minister's desk and neither of the Potters were pleased. In truth, they were both furious.

Dodging as best he could for the balance of the interview, Harry tried to pass off the 'rumour' that he was the 'Chosen One' as a bit of nonsense. When the hour had finally ended and the 'Off Air' lamp lit, Harry turned on the interviewer and pounced.

"Who told you that?"

Taken aback at the cold ferocity of his guest, Giles back-pedalled, "Told me what, my Lord?"

Scowling, Harry spat, "Don't play games with me. Who told you I'm this 'Chosen One'?"

"So it's true then?"

"It's a bullshit rumour. But if you keep talking about it, fucking Voldemort might believe it and come after my family even more than he has in the past." Stalking around the interview table, Harry crowded the radio show host into a corner while he jabbed a finger into the man's flabby chest.

"Who was your source?"

"It was just a rumour we were bandying about in the pressroom! I swear!"

In his fear, the man was sweating profusely. Harry decided to believe him for now, but rumours don't just spring from the head of Zeus like Athena had done; rumours have a source. He immediately used the Floo to return to school and his wife. Ten minutes later they charged into the Ministry and the Minister's office, breaking up her ten o'clock with Dirk Cresswell.

"There are three people on the planet who know the entire prophecy and all three are sitting in this room," Amelia responded with a scowl. She too was upset that this rumour was being circulated. However, the implication that she or one of her staff was the leak displeased her greatly.

Leaning forward in his chair, Harry returned the Minister's scowl and upped the ante with sarcasm, "Yes, but how many people know that there is a Prophecy regarding me and Voldemort? Tonks knew about it when she passed on your message."

Gabrielle reached over and rubbed her husband's back in an attempt to calm him. He leaned back in his chair and exhaled loudly as he calmed. He gave her a quick nod to show her that he was under control again.

Since her husband no longer needed her to be under control, Gabrielle let loose. "I am completely puzzled how state secrets are treated with such indiscretion. I was under the belief that this Prophecy and by extension my husband, were actually important to the Ministry. If this is how you treat valuable allies, we shall all roast over the spit as Voldemort laughs!"

She finished her mini-rant in a near shout. Gabi's eyes flashed and narrowed as her fear fuelled her anger.

Swallowing her own anger, Amelia held her hands up, palms outward. "My Lady, we must work together. Remember that I am on your side. There is no evidence that the Ministry is the source of this rumour. It could be mere speculation. Your husband was considered a saviour in 1981 and many people who are afraid of the Dark Lord's return are holding on to that comforting fact. That is the most likely source of the rumour. Speculation and wishful thinking."

Snorting at the probable truthfulness of the explanation, Gabrielle scowled. She wanted a person on whom she could vent her anger and fear. Someone who would feel her wrath.

"That being said, I shall have Director Hammer begin an investigation today before lunch. The timing of this rumour is very suspect. If there is a leak in my security I want that person's head on a pike by supper."

Harry gave a weak smile at the vehemence of the Minister. "You'd make a good Goblin, Amelia."

The women chuckled mirthlessly before Amelia extended the hand of friendship, "I am very sorry that this occurred, Harry. I figured it would get out sooner or later, but was hoping for later."

Harry nodded his scowl relaxing to displeasure. "Me too."

Gabrielle began to repent of her earlier harsh words. "Madam Minister, I regret…"

Amelia cut her off with a waved hand. "Please, forget it. You are understandably under considerable stress and it found an outlet. I've had much worse and will get even worse as time goes by."

"You are very gracious."

Amelia merely smiled and nodded in acknowledgement.

Harry stood and helped his wife out of her chair, "Thank you for taking the time to deal with our temper tantrum, Amelia."

"Not to worry. Given your entrance, I half expected to have to send an Auror around to collect the corpse of Giles Prichard."

"You almost did. I think he needs to change his robes, though." Everyone gave a small laugh as the Potters headed for the Atrium.

Alone as they rode down the lift, Harry smiled and observed, "Your mother and Fleur must be swearing and cursing up a storm right about now."

Gabrielle gave her tinkling laugh as she covered her mouth. "Mama will be nearly rabid by the time Papa arrives home. Fleur might be waiting for us at the school gates."

Harry barked a laugh. "Want to go see Sirius and avoid it all?"

"Most definitely. I need to laugh now and he's the man-child for the job."

"Oh, shit."

"What now, mon cher?"

"I didn't tell Boras about the interview. He's going to kill me."

"Nonsense, write a quick note of apology now. Hedwig will be waiting for him first thing."

They had a fun afternoon in Sussex with Sirius and Hestia. Sirius laughed for a half hour about Harry and Gabi storming Amelia Bones office. After a cosy family dinner, the Potters returned to school.

"My Lord! My Lady!" called an unctuous voice as they passed through the entrance hall.

Harry rolled his eyes as Gabrielle stifled a laugh. After the last few months of their fifth year with Professor Slughorn, the Potters had most decidedly opted out of Potions. His ingratiating, sycophantic behaviour grated on their nerves.

Despite Harry and Gabrielle's outgoing behaviour with their friends, they were very reserved in public. With all the leeches and glory hounds that had tried to attach themselves to Harry, Gabrielle or both of them, they'd become very adept at identifying people who were interested in the Boy-Who-Lived or the Veela Girl as opposed to the few who cared about Harry and Gabi.

Horace Slughorn was very definitely one of the former.

With a soft groan of annoyance, Harry slowed and turned. "Yes, professor?"

Waddling up the couple, the Potions Professor had a bright smile on his walrus-y face. "How are you this evening?"

Harry stared at the man, wondering if Slughorn really believed in the tripe he was spewing. Gabrielle did the civil and responded, "We are well, sir. Yourself?"

"Excellent! Topping! I heard your interview on the wireless this afternoon, my Lord. Well done, if I say so myself. You handled it exactly as I would have counselled. You know, I have helped out quite a few other celebrities in managing their media careers. If you'd like, I can put you in touch with some of them."

Harry was still dumbfounded, so his wife continued to pick up the slack. "That's very kind of you, Professor. Maybe some other time. We are both quite tired from today's exertions."

"Of course, of course." Snapping his fingers in feigned remembrance, he exclaimed, "Before I forget! I'm having a little holiday party in December before the end of term. I am most willing to work around your schedules. Please, let me know which night you are available between the first and fifteenth and we'll all get together."

His enthusiasm was very real now, giving Harry a nauseous feeling. With a half smile, Gabrielle nodded and turned to head back to their rooms.

"Why is it so different going to a regular party as opposed to a 'Slug Club' party?" Harry asked.

"Because the Potions professor wants something from us. At the other parties, it's glamour by association. I can live with that, but I think this holiday party will be the last time we associate with that man."

"Thank you, love," Harry whispered as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. "You're the best."

.oOo.

The weather was a bit off for the first Hogsmeade visit of the year. The temperature had dropped significantly in October, leaving frost on the lawn every morning. Harry and Gabrielle were to meet Remus at a new restaurant that had opened on the Hogsmeade high street. The Golden Cauldron was touting itself for the adults of the Wizarding world. Between the cost, dress code and menu, most of the Hogwarts students stayed away.

The Golden Cauldron provided an excellent meal and excellent privacy; two things the Potters required this day. The first month and a half at school had been gruelling. Between advanced studies, extra-curricular activities and 'real world' duties and responsibilities, Harry and Gabrielle had been running themselves ragged.

Just last weekend, they had a welcome relief as they apparated to Rowan Hill to visit Bill and Fleur. The engaged couple had settled in a large bedroom in the east wing of the house, opposite the master suite.

Fleur had mostly recovered from her injuries, but she still experienced some dizzy spells. Ripgut, her supervisor at Gringotts, had been surprisingly understanding about Fleur's need for time off from work. He had allowed her to take indefinite leave (without pay, of course). When she was well, she could return to her position without negative impact to her career.

Harry believed that the goblin position was a combination of two factors. First, Fleur was a non-human magical being. As such, the traditionally cold-hearted goblins had an affinity for her because of her heritage. The second reason was more circumspect and, admittedly, guesswork on Harry's part.

Voldemort was a xenophobic psychopath. He made seductive offers to the downtrodden magical races that appealed to their baser desires, greed or other less than reputable cravings.

The goblins aren't fools, though. They easily saw through his lies to see the manipulation behind the veneer of friendship and offers of assistance. Despite their antagonistic and warlike relationship with the Wizarding govenment, Voldemort's very transparent lies to the intelligent bankers of the magical world held no sway over the Great Goblin Council. The goblin leadership had no desire to rebel only to be cast aside as soon as they had outlived their usefulness.

By extension, Fleur Delacour was the sister in law of the Boy-Who-Lived: the standard bearer for opposition to Voldemort. She also had killed four Death Eaters when she was outnumbered six to one. Competence in battle of that proficiency was highly respected by the goblins. Harry told Gabrielle that he bet the goblins were cackling and rubbing their long fingered hands together when the heard the details of Fleur's altercation. By supporting Fleur, they were tacitly supporting Harry and the opposition to the Dark Lord.

Relaxing at the ancestral home of the Potters was healing for the Potters, as well as, Fleur and Bill. All four felt safe and secure.

At Hogwarts, safety was a relative term.

Harry and Gabrielle were pushing themselves hard in their wanded studies. Harry had progressed to the point where he routinely defeated Professor Shacklebolt. Now, Kingsley would team up with McGonagall for his matches with Harry. With Gabrielle at his side, only a combination of McGonagall, Shacklebolt and Flitwick had a chance of beating them. At this point, the students defeated the masters about fifty percent of the time.

Getting away for a day was exactly what the Potters needed. However, meeting up with Remus Lupin was a high risk/high return situation for the young Lord Potter. In his heart, Harry very much wanted to reconcile with Moony of the Marauders. Now that Harry had a family, he was becoming greedy and wanted more. He wanted another uncle like the one Sirius had become. That was the upside of the situation.

At the same time, Harry was wary. After growing up in the Dursley household, Harry was chary of extending his trust to someone who he judged to have hurt him. That was the downside. Harry felt exposed and vulnerable to Remus. He felt that with a brush off, Lupin could hurt Harry in ways that he'd hoped had been left in Surrey.

Gabrielle had a different perspective.

"Mon cher, the man is a werewolf. Do you realize how hard his life has been?"

When Harry had only frowned in response, she sighed and sat back in her chair. "Werewolves are hated in magical society. Before Lycanthropy was identified as a magical illness, werewolves were viewed as demonically possessed people. They were considered _evil_ and treated as such. That attitude has not changed much in the last thousand years. As such, Remus has most likely been spit on, stoned, degraded in all possible ways, rejected by any who find out about his affliction and had a shitty life in general."

Harry's eyebrows shot up at her cursing. Gabrielle only swore when she was extremely angry or drunk. Since they were taking a study break and it was four in the afternoon, he doubted that she was drunk.

"You're saying I should give him the benefit of the doubt because of what he's most likely been through."

Regaining her composure, Gabrielle nodded sharply. "Yes, that is exactly what I'm saying."

Nodding as he ruminated on what she had said, he thought aloud, "I need to stop thinking of myself and consider what he's been through."

"Yes."

After a deep breath, he nodded. Her point was valid. "Ok, I'll be as open minded as I can."

"Bon. Now, tell me how to do this illusion, I'm completely lost."

He smiled. It was a rare occasion that she admitted to being stuck.

As they walked down the road to Hogsmeade, Harry felt stuck. Intellectually, he agreed with Gabrielle. Remus had many 'extenuating circumstances' in his life that would have prevented him from contacting and attempting to care for Harry.

At the same time, Harry had gone through hell on earth at number 4 Privet Drive.

He vacillated between resentment of Remus' absence and understanding the werewolf's predicament. In short, he was stuck.

Opening the door to the Golden Cauldron for his wife, Harry took a last deep breath of the crisp air. Ducking in the restaurant, his eyes adjusted to the darker interior as he took Gabrielle's cloak for her. Absently handing it to an elf, he divested himself of his own cloak and followed the Maitre d' to the back of the dining room.

Lupin was waiting for them at the corner table. He rose and smiled to the Potters. The Headwaiter held out Gabrielle's chair and the party sat, taking their menus. Gabrielle ordered a bottle of wine for them allowing the sommelier to depart, leaving them alone.

"How are you, Moony?" Harry asked. He'd decided to be generous and use the informal name for the Marauder.

A hint of smile graced the man's face, "I'm well. You two?"

"We're well also. Busy, but well."

An awkward silence descended that was temporarily broken by the return of the sommelier bearing their wine. When the red was opened and set on the table, the silence descended again.

Becoming frustrated, Harry jumped in with both feet. "Moony, the reason I asked to meet with you is that I've got a problem." He then outlined his grievances, real and imagined against one of his father's best friends.

"As I sit here and lay this all out, I feel like quite the petulant child. At the same time…" he tailed off. Looking at the table, he whispered, "It was really bad, Moony." Gabrielle took his hand in support while Harry fought to control his emotions.

Remus worked his jaw twice, but the words failed to materialize. When Harry looked up, he saw a tear track down the man's cheek. Seeing the plaintive expression on Harry's face, Remus finally choked out, "I'm sorry, Harry. I never knew."

"But why, Remus? Why didn't you check on me?"

The older man sighed, as he seemed to fold in on himself. "When they took Sirius away, blaming him for your parents' deaths, I was destroyed. I'd lost everyone who I cared about and who cared for me in return. James, Sirius, Peter and Lily were all dead or nearly so." He looked out the window for a moment. "I took it badly. Within days, I was in Morocco and headed into the hills of Northern Africa. I could be alone, not hurt anyone nor be hurt in turn.

"Two years later when the madness calmed, I returned to Britain. I went to Hogwarts in order to find out from Dumbledore where you were living." Looking away, Remus added, "I realized that I could never have custody of you because of my affliction, but I wanted to see you. Possibly visit you every so often.

"Albus refused to tell me where you were."

Harry closed his eyes in frustration. One more stroke against the dead man. One more sin. He wasn't surprised, but at the same time, he was still enraged.

From Harry's left, Gabrielle asked, "What did he tell you?"

"He told me that Harry was safe and the less people who knew where he lived, the better."

Harry shook his head at his own doubts about Remus' character. The man had just as good an excuse as Sirius for not checking up on him when he was young. Softly, Harry asked, "Why didn't you tell me all this during my third year? I've needed family all my life."

Remus recoiled a little at Harry's rebuke. It had been delivered gently, but it was there nonetheless. Biting his lip and tugging at his sleeve, Remus haltingly replied, "I was…concerned about your…reaction to my affliction."

Nodding his understanding, Harry squeezed Gabrielle's hand in thanks. Her talk to him had opened his perception from just his own world and allowed him to consider Remus' situation. Because of that, the power behind the mild statement was evident.

"We didn't know each other very well. I knew _of_ you from a decade previous, but I didn't know you. I realized that you probably had quite a bit of unwanted activity in your life, what with being the Boy-Who-Lived and all. A pathetic werewolf holding his hat in hand was the last thing you needed."

Harry's eyes snapped open at the self-flagellating statement. He'd been put down his whole life and Harry was unwilling to tolerate those who he cared about put themselves through the same thing. Catching Remus' eye, he corrected the older man, "You can never come to me in a pathetic manner. You are _Moony_ and, as such, are family for me just like Padfoot and Prongs."

Remus studied his dead friend's son for a long moment before a smile grew on his worn, tired face. When the grin was in full bloom, Moony nodded his understanding.

Harry returned the smile with affection, "I hope you're hungry, I've heard this place is pretty good." The door was closed. What mattered was the here and now. And the future, always the future.

.oOo.

"Damn, it's cold!"

"Harry! Language!"

Gabrielle and Neville laughed as Harry was reproved by Hermione. She always managed to infuse her reprimands with an authority that made Harry cringe.

They were headed down to the Quidditch stadium for the Gryffindor vs. Ravenclaw match. Ravenclaw didn't have very high prospects for the year, which was a good thing for the Lions. Gryffindor needed a match or two to break in their new side. Coote and Peakes had come a long way, showing quite a bit of promise. They weren't as good as the twins, but as they were only Second years, they would have quite a few years to work together to improve.

The chaser line, though, still wasn't the well-oiled machine that Katie and Harry had hoped to develop. Demelza Robbins was a steady force in the middle. She was a stable flyer who could take and give a shoulder with the best of them. Alongside Katie, they formed a power attack that was formidable.

Ginny Weasley was a stupendous flyer who was more suited to finesse than physical chaser work. Her petite stature worked against her in the scrum, as Katie had foreseen at tryouts. Nevertheless, Ginny was nearly lethal when she had a breakaway. In one-on-one situations, she invariably scored on McLaggen. It was an impressive statistic, as he was the best keeper at Hogwarts and destined to sign a professional contract.

While Harry ruminated on his team's chances, Gabrielle took matters into her own hands and cast a Warming charm on her husband.

Absently, he thanked her, "Thanks, love."

A half hour later, the balls were released and the match in play. Rapidly, the Gryffindor team took control of the contest. Coote and Peakes dominated the Ravenclaw chaser line while the Lions scored seemingly at will. As Harry quartered the pitch, he realized that Oliver had started something six years ago.

Oliver set the bar very high for his Gryffindor Quidditch team. He would accept nothing less than near professional play from his team and drove them mercilessly until they matched his expectations. That winning attitude had been passed down to Katie and Harry who in turn passed it down to the current team. He made a mental note to talk to Katie later about the issue. It might be worth a team meeting to talk about 'The Gryffindor Way' to play Quidditch.

Just after a quick glance at the scoreboard, which showed Gryffindor in the lead 120-20, a glint of gold coupled with a diving Ravenclaw Seeker grabbed his attention.

Quickly zeroing in on the snitch, Harry seemed to leap through the air as he streaked after his quarry. Despite finding the snitch first, the Ravenclaw seeker was further away from it than Harry was. The outcome was inevitable and the match ended in a dominating Gryffindor victory.

As the house congregated around the players to celebrate the victory, Harry wrapped his free arm around his wife. She gave him a quick kiss and he a beaming smile for her when a tapping on his shoulder caught Harry's attention.

Turning, Harry saw the other members of the '93 Gryffindor team. All were bedecked in scarlet and gold, Oliver was beaming and the Twins danced to a tune that only they heard. Alicia and Angelina waved to the Potters as they tracked down Katie.

"Hey, guys," Harry greeted.

"Hey, mate," Oliver replied. "Mozeliak is on the edge of having a baby; he wants to sign you so badly."

Harry smiled. After the summer training with the lads, he was very partial to playing for Puddlemere, even if they didn't have the biggest fees. "Have him call Boras, he's my agent."

"Speak of the devil," Fred mentioned as he nodded over Harry's shoulder.

Turning once again, Harry saw Scott Boras wading through the crowd. His agent waved for Harry to meet him in the stands. After a quick goodbye to their friends, Harry and Gabrielle pushed their way through the crowd to meet Boras in the Hufflepuff stands.

"Afternoon, Harry, Gabrielle."

"Afternoon, Scott. What's the word?"

Glancing around, Boras scooted closer to his client and told him, "Puddlemere is offering fifty thousand galleons for the right to exclusive first negotiations with you."

Harry stared. "They're offering fifty-k just to be the first to talk to me?"

Boras smiled, showing lots of teeth. "Yes."

"Your advice?"

"Take it and cash the check quickly."

Harry and Gabrielle laughed. After they all settled, Harry mentioned, "Just to let you know, I'm leaning hard toward Puddlemere."

Boras nodded, expecting the news. He had seen whom Harry and Gabrielle were chatting with after the match. At the same time, though, "Just keep an open mind. They could trade the Twins tomorrow or Wood could have an accident."

Harry nodded, "Right. Just so you know…"

"Understood. I'll let United know that you accept their offer and begin negotiations." He handed Harry a sealed scroll, "Here's a list of items that I think you can successfully demand as entering arguments for you contract. No trade clauses, image rights, travel accommodations for you and Lady Potter and the like. Take a look and we can talk next weekend. If you've any questions, owl me or Floo me. You've my Floo address at work and home, right?"

Harry nodded, a bit overwhelmed. Boras smiled a friendlier grin. "It seems a bit much now, but your contract is a big deal so you need to be prepared. Thankfully, the negotiations will be slow. It's a lot of money for a lot of years in a Quidditch lifetime, so Puddlemere won't rush into things. I'll explain everything as we go. In the list," he nodded to the scroll, "are the contract lengths I think you can safely get. The longer, the better is the rule of thumb."

Ten minutes later, Boras bounced out of the stands, a happy agent. Harry wrapped his arms around his wife, a bit shell-shocked. She rubbed his chest and muttered so that only he heard, "All will be well."

"So long as I have you, it will."

.oOo.

DELACOUR ELECTED PRESIDENT OF FRANCE

Gabrielle squeaked when she saw the headline of the _Daily Prophet_. The family had discussed, via owl, the possibility of Henri's ascension to the highest office in magical France. President Balfour was not seeking re-election due to health reasons, so Henri was the leading candidate for office. Henri and Marie had been thankful that the election process for magical France precluded formal campaigning by hopefuls. Le Confederation Magique assembled; members nominated eligible persons and then voted. It was remarkably similar to the election of a Pope by the College of Cardinals. It lacked the white smoke, though.

Many people would be excited if their father or father in law was elected as the President of a country. However, Harry and Gabrielle were particularly undecided. Henri would have a bigger target on him now. As Foreign Minister and father in law of Harry Potter, Henri's security detail was impressive. Gabrielle could only imagine the increase now that he was President.

Counterbalancing the danger was the opportunity to help people. Despite being a politician, Henri had a noble streak in him that demanded he work for the betterment of all. Because of his heritage, Henri had a soft spot for equal rights for all magical creatures. However, because of his heritage, he was unable to make significant inroads into fair treatment policy. Far too many of the career civil servants knew of his ancestry and held it against him.

Time would tell how effective he would be.

"Pardon, my Lady."

Turning, Gabrielle and Harry saw Auror D'artagn behind them. "I see that you have heard about your father's election," he nodded to the newspaper. "When you are finished with your meal, we need to discuss security arrangements for the two of you."

They nodded and finished their meal quickly. Following D'artagn to the Hogwarts Garrison offices, they were joined by Tonks. As the foursome sat, D'artagn mentioned, "Auror Tonks is our British liaison officer for your security detail." Two more French Aurors entered the office and stood off to the side.

"My Lady, my Lord, may I introduce Auror Lafayette and Auror Ney. They are also on your security detail. Within the castle, you shall be accompanied at all times by one Auror. Whenever you leave the school grounds, we shall assign extra security that is based on your destination."

What followed was a briefing that guaranteed two things: Harry and Gabrielle would have very little privacy for the foreseeable future and it would be a huge hassle to do minor things like Christmas shopping, much less the significant events.

As they headed to class, Harry observed, "Fleur and Bill's wedding is going to be chaos."

Gabi snorted, "That's an understatement." With an impish smile, she teased, "I think I'm going to write her a letter, extolling the virtues of elopement and marriage contracts."

Harry laughed in response, pulling her close. "I think your mother would kill us. She didn't get a wedding for her youngest; I think she'd go 'round the twist if she didn't get one for Fleur."

"But it would be so much fun!" Gabi exclaimed with bubbling laughter. They laughed and exposited various curses and punishments that Marie would devise in retribution. The Potters smiled through the rest of the day despite the new looming threat.

.oOo.

"Tonks, you're great, but I'm very tired of you and the others following us around."

"Understood, Harrikins. But Scrimgeour and Hammer would nail my hide to the doors of the castle if anything happened to you two on my watch."

Harry groaned at Tonks' use of the Twins' favourite nickname for him. Surrendering to the inevitable defeat of his arguments, he raised his hands while conceding, "I give up. I just don't like it."

The Metamorphmagus flopped into the chair next to Harry. "For what it's worth, I understand that you must be feeling pretty closed in with your constant minders."

He sighed, "I'm just whinging. Don't mind me."

She smiled and changed the subject, "What time does the party start?"

As Harry pulled his watch from his pocket he replied, "Seven o'clock. Looks like we're going to be fashionably late."

From the doorway of their bedroom, Gabrielle asked, "Are you complaining, mon cher?"

Harry turned to her only to be struck dumb. He knew his wife was beautiful. Every day he saw her beauty, both inside and out. Gabrielle looked fabulous in Hogwarts robes and her fluffy dressing gown. However, tonight she had taken special care while dressing and doing her hair.

Radiant. Gorgeous. Stunning. Dazzling. Striking.

They all fell short.

She was simply the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen or could imagine. Perhaps the tender look of love that graced her expression accentuated his perception. Most likely, his devotion to her heightened his evaluation of her assets. His love for her whole person decidedly drew out any and all aspects of her beauty for him.

Wordless, he rose and approached her. While maintaining eye contact, he gently grasped her hand and brought it to his lips. After placing a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, he whispered, "I am utterly yours."

Smiling through her devotion, she responded, "As I am yours."

"Shall we?" he asked, as he indicated the door.

"We shall." The Potters headed to the dungeons for their final 'Slug Club' meeting with their very dangerous minder in tow.

In a moment of rare seriousness, Tonks silently wondered if she'd ever find someone to love in the same manner that the Potters loved each other. "Or someone who'll love me in turn," she muttered.

.oOo.

"Ah! My Lord! My Lady! So good to see you!" Slughorn had positioned himself at the door of his expanded quarters, lying in wait for his most famous students.

The Potions Professor began to show off the Potters like a prize bull and heifer to his other guests. Eventually, they made their way to a Slughorn devotee who was trying to convince the Potters to let them write a biopic of their lives so far. "We'll call it, _The Potters at Hogwarts._"

Ignoring the boor, Gabrielle noticed the tall, cadaverously thin and pale man standing behind the author. He was staring at Gabrielle, but not in the usual lustful manner of which she was, unfortunately, very familiar.

"Oh," the author murmured when he noticed Gabrielle eying the man with a distrustful look. "This is Sanguini, he's a vampire. I've just finished up a biopic about him to be released this month. Just in time for Christmas!"

"How do you do?" the vampire asked as he reached for Gabrielle's hand.

Harry reached for his wand, but wasn't fast enough. Before anyone could blink, Tonks interposed herself between Gabrielle and Sanguini. The vampire was now eying the Veela as if she were a iced sherbet on a hot day. Over her shoulder, Tonks directed Harry and Gabrielle, "Move."

The Potters backed away from the Vampire and in the process, Harry bumped into Gwenog Jones.

The Potions Professor, in an attempt to recover from his Vampiric faux pas, exclaimed, "Gwenog! How are you my dear? I'd like to introduce you to…"

"We've met," the brusque witch interrupted. "How are you, Harry, Gabrielle?"

Remembering her 'discussion' with Oliver from the summer, Harry smiled and replied, "We're well. You?"

"Not bad. Took a bludger in the back from one of those redheaded maniac friends of yours last week. Still a bit stiff."

"I heard it on the wireless. It was a pretty exciting match."

She nodded into her drink. "The Twins have really helped Puddlemere. Their chaser line isn't anything flashy, but they're solid." She cocked an amused eyebrow, "You going to sign with them?"

Harry chuckled. "We'll see. How are Angie and Alicia?"

All business again, Gwenog answered, "They're doing well. They hooped for seventeen goals against Puddlemere."

"Against Oliver?" Gabrielle gasped.

Gwenog smiled and nodded. "Too bad you've the wrong wedding tackle, Harry. We could use a good seeker."

Gabrielle wrapped her arm around Harry, "I think he has exactly the right wedding tackle."

The captain of the Holyhead Harpies laughed. "I suppose you would think that. It was good seeing you two." Gwenog nodded and moved over to talk to Katie Bell, who'd just come in.

"Interesting," Harry commented.

"Looks like Katie may be the next chaser for the Harpies," Gabrielle agreed.

Turning away from their friend, Harry saw the Potions Professor waiting for them to recognize him. The Lord Potter decided to acknowledge the man, but not in the way Slughorn had probably hoped.

"Professor, I'd like to know what the _hell_ you were thinking inviting an Vampire into the school, much less to this party?" Harry scowled at the now sweating Professor of Potions.

"Voldemort is raging out there," Harry waved his hand in a general way to indicate society in general. "Who knows if the Vampire clans have been suborned and _you_ bring an undead creature that feasts on human blood inside the wards of the castle."

Over the podgy man's shoulder, Harry saw Tonks escorting the incapacitated and now hovering undead creature from the room, the protesting author keeping pace. Before she left the room, Tonks caught Harry's eye and motioned for the Potters to stay at the party. Harry nodded while the head of Slytherin house began to protest.

"My Lord! I…I, had no idea that Sanguini would be here…"

Rolling his eyes, Harry interrupted, "Bollocks. How long was he here before we arrived?"

"Oh, well. I'm sure I don't know…"

Severely annoyed, Harry turned away from the man and stalked off. Gabrielle slowly followed, smiling to the important persons who were watching the 'festivities' surrounding Harry, Gabrielle and Slughorn.

Most of them returned the smile, amused that Harry had called the self proclaimed 'Power Broker' on his usual games. Catching up to her husband at the drinks table, Gabrielle leaned in to him and whispered, "Calm down. You're on the verge of making a scene."

Sighing, he apologized, "Sorry. That man just irritates the crap out of me."

Gabi rubbed his back, "Me, too. Don't let him bother you, though. He's a bug."

Harry laughed, "Don't you mean an invertebrate?"

She smiled; it always made her feel good when Harry was in high spirits.

"Hi, guys," greeted Hermione from behind the table.

Harry turned to see Hermione dressed in simple yet elegant robes. She was smiling widely and dropped Gabrielle a wink before saying, "So, Harry. Annoyed much?"

Gabi began giggling into her hand as Hermione laughed under her breath. Confused, Harry looked between the two before asking, "What?"

This prompted the two witches to laugh aloud. Between breaths, Hermione explained, "We had a bet how long you'd last before you snapped at Professor Slughorn. My wager was ten minutes or less." She turned to Gabrielle and smiled, "I'll collect my winnings tomorrow at breakfast, thank you very much."

Turning to his wife, Harry asked, "How long did you bet I'd last."

Gabrielle gave him a small kiss before replying, "I had much more confidence in you, mon cher."

"How long?" he persisted.

"Fifteen minutes," she answered with a smile.

Rolling his eyes at his own predictability, Harry groaned, "I'm so reassured that the most important people in my life have such high expectations of my behaviour."

"Oh, get over yourself," Hermione teased as she reached for the crudités, loading up her plate.

Harry stuck his tongue out at his friend before asking, "So, are you here with anyone?"

Gabrielle saw a hooded look in her friend's expression as she replied, "Not really."

Harry frowned and was about to follow up on the question when Gabrielle squeezed his hand. Harry looked at this wife with a questioning glance.

"Mon cher, would you please refresh our drinks?"

Harry deliberately looked at his full butterbeer and Gabrielle's full wine glass before he caught on to her meaning.

"Right. Be back in a jiffy."

Gabrielle sidled around the table and hooked her arm in Hermione's. "Come, we've much to discuss."

When they had settled in a quiet corner, Gabrielle decided to 'go fishing', "So, you are uncomfortable with asking a boy for a date?"

Hermione blushed. "Not so much uncomfortable, but…afraid, really." The last was whispered so quietly that Gabrielle almost didn't hear her friend.

"But why?"

Hermione half shrugged while sipping from her glass of wine. After a long silence, she began, "I've always been very shy. Hiding behind books was an easy way around it." She waved her hand in a general way toward the crowd, "You've seen that I don't have many friends. For the longest time it was just Harry and Ron."

Gabrielle harrumphed at the mention of Ron Weasley. The tall redhead was still on the list of her least favourite persons due to his treatment of Harry and Hermione.

"You and I are excellent friends, but I only felt comfortable reaching out to you because of Harry."

"What about Neville, Susan and the Twins? Aren't they your friends, also?"

Nodding her agreement, Hermione replied, "Very true."

"So, it seems that you are beginning to outgrow your shyness. What is the real issue? Why are you afraid?" Gabrielle tried to be gentle, but firm with her friend. On more than one occasion, her mama had to extract information that Gabrielle hadn't wanted to discuss, but needed to speak of nonetheless.

"This summer. Ron," Hermione whispered.

Gabrielle didn't say anything, understanding blooming full form in her mind. Reaching out, she embraced her friend. The damage done by Ron Weasley's unthinking self-centeredness coupled with the kidnapping over the summer had caused significant damage that wouldn't be repaired overnight. Hermione sniffled a bit, but didn't cry. The time for tears was over.

Harry returned, balancing two white wines and a butterbeer, Tonks in tow and D'artagn over her shoulder. "Hey, found you…what's wrong?"

"Oh, nothing. Girl talk," Hermione answered. "Thanks," she said as she reached for her refill.

Afterwards, Harry was reluctant to ever admit it, but once they'd shed Slughorn he had a good time at the party. Gwenog aside, it was a very eclectic and interesting group: researchers, politicians, giants of industry, athletes and, of course, the professors.

Strolling back to their quarters, Tonks a discreet distance behind them, they chatted in low tones. D'artagn had returned to the Garrison when they'd determined that no other undead creatures or other threats to their principals existed at the party.

"What was going on with Hermione?" Harry asked.

Gabrielle sighed. "Between the kidnapping this summer and Ron revealing his true colours during fourth year, she is very wary of dating anyone. Combine that with her shyness and it will be some time before she enters in a relationship with anyone."

"Hermione? Shy? You're kidding, right."

Poking her husband in the ribs, she told him, "If she hadn't been your best friend after you saved her life, I seriously doubt you'd know her now."

Harry frowned. It was difficult to imagine his life without his oldest friend. Doing his best to be objective, he took a few mental steps back from the situation and thought while his feet carried him home.

"Ok, I see it," he told her as they entered their quarters. He gave Tonks an absent wave goodnight as he shut the portrait. "Can I help her?" he asked.

With a regretful expression, Gabrielle shook her head. "Not really. Just be her friend."

"And skin anyone who hurts her?" he asked in a hopeful voice.

She moved into his arms as she chuckled. "You've already done that once."

With a grim expression, Harry remembered the grisly conclusion of Hermione's kidnapping. "I'd do it again."

She nodded against his chest. "So would I."

.oOo.

The last two weeks of the fall term was a blur of tests and last minute studying. Since Harry, Gabrielle, Hermione and Ginny Weasley were all in the wedding party for Fleur and Bill's wedding, they all left school a week early. This, in turn, compressed their study schedules. For the three sixth years, it wasn't that bad. Ginny, however, was pulling at her flame coloured hair by the time they congregated in Professor McGonagall's office. OWL year on top of a compressed schedule was stressing the redheaded witch more than usual. Ginny was to use the Floo to return to the Burrow, while Harry, Gabrielle and Hermione used the Floo to travel to the Three Broomsticks.

Their security team had a man at the pub who gave the Potters an 'all clear' nod. A quick apparition to Crawley from the Hogsmeade pub deposited Hermione at her home. After a quick greeting to Mr. and Mrs. Granger, Harry and Gabrielle reassured the elder Grangers that they were welcome to wear muggle clothing or robes to the wedding, whichever was most comfortable. The wedding was going to be massive and Gabrielle explained that her sister had many muggle friends who would be attending. Dresses and suits would be worn almost as much as robes.

Promising to meet up with their friends the next day, the Potters headed to Paris and the Île de la Cité. Hermione and her parents were going to drive over the next day via the Calais ferry.

Usually, the Delacour household was a model of tranquillity. It was an island of calm happiness in a sea of turbulence from the outside world. The tone was set by Henri. The man had the patience of a saint and it influenced the entire family. On more than one occasion, Harry had wondered if anyone was at home, the house was so quiet.

Marie was more exuberant than her husband was. Her emotions were usually worn on her sleeve. At the same time, her iron will afforded her a level of control over herself that Harry had never seen. Not even Minerva McGonagall could as ruthlessly push aside her feelings as Marie Delacour could.

The easy familiarity that Harry's family had with each other had been a balm for his old wounds. The Burrow had been a madhouse, exciting in its newfound example of how a family could interact. It was exciting for a while, but Harry was an introvert. After a while, the frenetic activity of the household in Devon wore him out. He knew he couldn't live like the Weasleys did.

The calm tranquillity of the Delacour household was a lifestyle that he embraced. When he and Gabrielle moved out on their own either at the end of this year or the near future, the serenity of Henri and Marie's house was his goal to emulate.

Therefore, Harry was shocked when they appeared in the entry hall of the Delacour home to hear a gabble of voices, distant shouts and even the screeching of an owl. The two man security team in the hall had their wands out, conducting scans of the two new arrivals for the use of glamours and Polyjuice potion.

Ignoring the now routine presence of security, Harry looked to Gabrielle with concern on his face about the noise. She giggled, "Bill's family is staying here for the next week before the wedding."

Nodding, Harry smiled, "Your mother is going to kill Molly."

Now Gabrielle laughed outright. The Twins, Harry and Hermione had painted a very vivid portrait of the Weasley matriarch. "Probably."

Two house elves popped into the foyer, retrieving the Potters shrunken luggage. Harry divested his wife of her travelling cloak and handed it to a third elf. They began to head into the house to find the family when George (or was it Fred?) scampered around the corner, an expression of fear on his face.

"Run!"

"What?" Harry barked, drawing his wand. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the two French Aurors mirroring his action.

The other twin barrelled around the corner after his brother. "What are you waiting for? Run!"

"What the hell is going on?" Harry demanded.

With an expression of terror, the twins replied, "Mum."

Stunned, Harry stood there for a second as the Twins ran out the front door. Gabrielle rolled her eyes and grabbed Harry's hand. "Come, mon cher. They are being idiots. Let's find mama."

Shaking his head, Harry walked next to his wife, muttering about morons with more energy than sense. The security team shook their heads in annoyance before Disillusioning themselves.

"Oh, Harry! Gabrielle! It's good to see you!" the voice of Molly Weasley exclaimed. She bustled over to the Potters as she said, "Now that you're here, I'm sure that you can lend a hand. We need…"

Gabrielle interrupted her, "It is very good to see you, Mrs. Weasley. We need to find mama and Fleur. Thank you." She smiled broadly to the redheaded matriarch as she pulled her husband toward the main sitting room.

When they turned the corner in the hall, Gabrielle scowled. "Fleur sent a letter yesterday. She told me that Bill's mother had been intolerable. She seems to think that she is in charge of my sister's wedding."

Harry shook his head and chuckled. "Mrs. Weasley has been 'in charge' for most of her life with her brood. It's probably a reflex to be a bit bossy."

Narrowing her eyes, Gabrielle conceded, "Maybe." She continued in a snappish tone, "And maybe she's a bossy-pants who can't keep her opinions to herself about things that aren't her business."

Harry's eyebrows shot up. "Whoa. What'd I do?"

Gabrielle sighed, "Sorry. Fleur's letter was pretty long and she was very upset with Mrs. Weasley. She's been telling Fleur and mama that everything was all wrong. From the menu at the reception to the colours for the church.

"Apparently, it's been 'Well when I got married, we did this' or 'I always thought it would be'. Only once did she say 'Well, a proper wedding should have'. It seems that mama was digging in a box for a colour book when Mrs. Weasley said that. Fleur said mama stopped digging, slowly stood and pierced Molly with a glare that would have had Fleur in tears. Mr. Weasley read the situation correctly and excused himself and his wife. She returned shortly thereafter and apologized."

Harry shook his head. A pop from the entry hall caught his attention and he heard Molly greeting Ginny. Arthur must have apparated her from the Burrow.

"Mama!" Gabrielle exclaimed as they entered the sitting room. Marie's face was a bit tired, but when she saw her youngest child, the woman's expression brightened perceptibly. Harry saw Bill, Fleur and Henri in the room, with three other persons he didn't know.

Embracing Fleur, he asked, "Who're they?"

Fleur whispered, "The wedding planners and the chief of papa's security team. We're going over some last minute flower arrangements and the invitation list. The President of muggle France and the Queen of muggle Britain are attending now, so the security personnel are going crazy."

Shaking his head in sympathy, Harry asked, "Everything else done?"

"Oh, yes," Bill replied as he shook Harry's hand in greeting.

"But then, what's…?" he tailed off.

"My mum doing that's pissing off everyone?" Bill finished with a grin. Fleur had an amused look of disapproval on her face.

"Well, yeah," Harry answered, a bit red in the face.

Bill pulled Harry off to the side as Fleur and Gabrielle embraced. "As I'm sure you've figured out by now, my mother has a few control issues and isn't shy about letting her opinions be known."

Harry smiled at the understatement. "Really? I would've never known."

Bill returned his almost brother in law's smile. "Yeah, it's hard to pick up on some times." They shared a small laugh, before Bill continued. "Mum's just being mum. She crossed the line with Marie the other day so dad jumped on her back. I caught hell from Fleur, so I jumped on mum later. She's left it alone since then." Bill focused on Harry with a hint of humour, "She's focusing on the rehearsal dinner."

Harry's head dropped in mock despair, while Bill laughed heartily.

.oOo.

"Robe fittings. Joy." Harry grumbled as he and the rest of the wedding party trekked into the ballroom of the Delacour house. There were a series of partitions set up for everyone to dress. Harry, Gabrielle, Ginny, Hermione, Charlie Weasley and two of Bill's cursebreaker friends were milling about. The rest of the bridesmaids and groomsmen were to trickle in through the day. The parents of the bride and groom were to be fitted after lunch.

Hermione had arrived mid morning, her parents in tow. They'd left very early to beat the traffic and caught the first ferry from Dover. Fortunately, it had been a light day for traffic in Paris. 'Light traffic' for the City of Light is a relative term, unfortunately. Steven Granger had required a large whiskey to restore his nerves while he and Henri commiserated on the phenomenon.

Currently, Ginny was in a corner buried behind a stack of books. Hermione had offered to help her revise, but Ginny had shaken her off, saying, "Thanks, but I just have to memorize these bloody Goblin rebellion dates."

In an act of supreme mercy, the tailors had attended to the men first. Harry finished up with his fitting in a quick ten minutes. Formal dress robes were so similar to a tuxedo that no one would probably notice the difference.

He stepped out from behind his curtained fitting area to see the eldest Weasley brothers chatting off to the side. Waving to his wife, Harry approached the two redheads.

"Hey, guys. I was going to hop to Toulon to check on our boat. Would you like to come with?"

Charlie laughed, "To get out of this mad-house? Let's go!"

Bill smiled and motioned for the other two to wait. He headed to his betrothed and after a quick exchange, headed back to his oldest and newest brother.

"Get permission?" Charlie teased.

After a quick two fingered salute, Bill muttered, "Let's get out of here before mum shows up."

The men moved to the entry hall to grab their coats. After conjuring a brass ring, Harry cast a quick Portkey spell and two minutes later, the threesome was standing outside of Master Shipwright Proteus' offices.

The wind off the bay was brisk, causing Harry to flip up the collar of his jacket. Ducking his head in the office, he found no one home. There was a sign on the table reading 'Am at stocks' accompanied by a small map which showed the way.

As they threaded their way through crates, winterized boats, ships unloading cargo and the rest of the hustle and bustle of an active port facility, Harry found himself very excited about seeing the _Gabi_. Rowan Hill was the family seat. Wonderful as it was and as excited as he and Gabrielle were about living there, it wasn't really his. The same was true for White Rock. Eventually, he and Gabrielle would inherit the wonderful retreat, but it would always be Marie and Henri's home in his mind.

The _Gabi_ was his. Just like her namesake, the sailing yacht was Harry's and no one else's.

Rounding the last corner, he came on a fenced in area of the port. "Over here," Charlie called as he pointed off to the left. As Harry moved to the gate, he heard Charlie exclaim, "Holy shit."

Turning the corner, Harry saw the enormous hull of the _Gabi_ up on stocks. It was complete and had the base coats of paint applied. From inside the boat they heard copious amounts of cursing in French, Latin, English and a lilting language that Bill identified as Irish Gaelic.

"She's beautiful," Harry gushed.

"C'mon mate," Bill entreated, "Let's go see the rest of your new girl."

"Does Gabrielle know about this one?" Charlie teased.

Harry apparated to the top of a scaffolding next to the sailboat and peered over the edge. He had first thought to apparate to the main deck, but was now glad that he hadn't as there was no main deck to stand on.

The hull, ribs, crossbeams and knees of the boat were all in place and that was it. No decks, no bulkheads and no ladders. The _Gabi_ looked like the world's largest canoe. Down in her bilges, three men were alternately hammering, casting spells and shouting at each other in various languages.

"Er, excuse me."

All three looked up at Harry and the Weasley brothers.

The oldest man scowled and spat, "What?"

"Is Proteus around?"

"He'll be back soon. Get off my boat."

Irritated, Harry shot back, "It's my fucking boat and I'll stand wherever I want."

"Go fuck a goat and get off my boat you pipsqueak!"

From behind them, a voice explained, "You'll have to excuse Jacques. He was drinking until four AM and still hasn't really recovered."

Turning, Harry saw a middle aged man levitating a large wooden crate. With a quick flick of his wand, he sent the crate down into the hull of the _Gabi_. The labourers began pulling out planks and tools from the bottomless crate to continue their work.

"How do you do, I'm Marcel Beaufort, apprentice to Master Shipwright Proteus. And you are…?"

After introductions were made, Beaufort led the visitors away from the stocks explaining the progress of the _Gabi's_ construction. "The hull and supports are the most time consuming. Since your boat is hand crafted, all the mundane working of the wood takes time. Layering the spell work on top of that time really stretches out construction." He gave Harry a smile filled with professional pride, "But your boat will never sink."

Following a reassuring conversation, the group rode a portkey back to Paris. Harry headed up to his and Gabrielle's room to start his holiday homework.

Which is where Gabrielle found him an hour and a half later.

"How is the boat coming along?" she asked as she lay across the bed.

"Well enough," he replied. Shifting to the bed, he propped her feet in his lap and began rubbing them. As she groaned in pleasure, he asked, "How was the fitting?"

"Nightmare," she replied.

"Because…?"

She cracked an eye open, "Because Fleur is a nervous wreck. Because my mother is trying to prove to Molly Weasley that it is a Delacour wedding, not a Weasley wedding. Because you left me all alone to deal with the big bad posturing parents."

She said the last with a smile on her face and flopped back on the bed so he could carry on his ministrations to her feet.

Realizing that any attempt to justify his behaviour was doomed to failure, he summoned a bottle of lotion, applied a healthy amount to his wife's feet and continued to massage them.

"You are so very hired. Talk to my husband to arrange your pay."

Harry laughed, "Was it really that bad?"

She sighed. "Not really. Mama was a bit of a boor and Fleur is understandably nervous. I just wanted to enjoy the event."

He wiped the excess lotion on his forearms before crawling up next to her. She rolled on her side, allowing him to spoon behind her. "I won't leave you with the big bad parents for the rest of break, alright?"

She giggled and wiggled back into his embrace. As Harry held Gabrielle in his arms, he contemplated family. He realized that his in-laws were flawed people. Henri and Marie could be snobbish and Fleur could be so as well. Bill had a major inferiority complex that it seemed all the Weasley's inherited in one form or another.

Gabrielle was perfect to him, though. Oh, she was a bed hog of the first order. Over homework she could give Hermione a run for her money in the 'most obsessed over stupid shit' category. When she didn't get her way, sometimes she could be very sharp with her tongue. Most annoyingly, she squeezed the toothpaste tube in the middle, not the end. Not all those things really mattered, though.

"I would walk through the fires of hell for you," he muttered, not realizing that he had spoken.

Gabrielle turned in his arms to look at him quizzically. "As I would for you, mon cher."

He answered her unspoken question. "I was thinking about family. Our family is not populated with perfect people. They're all flawed, just as I am. But that doesn't matter; I love them more than I could ever have imagined when I was suffering in Surrey." He caressed her cheek as he looked into her eyes, "But you…you're my life. My love. I would walk through the fires of hell for you."

Slowly, he leaned in and kissed her. It was a gentle kiss. One of promise and commitment. Love and affection. After a short moment, he broke the kiss and pulled her to him. Resting her head on his chest, Gabrielle almost began to weep as her feelings were so powerful, rioting through her heart like they were.

Eventually, they roused themselves. Harry finished the Transfiguration essay that McGonagall had set, while Gabrielle worked on her Arithmancy homework.

The gong sounded in the entry hall, announcing lunch. Harry had to chuckle as it sounded like a herd of wildebeest tromping through the halls of the home as the Delacours, Potters, Grangers and Weasleys all made their way to the dining room.

Harry felt like he was eating in the Great Hall as eleven residents plus the three Grangers sat to table. Ron wasn't due until the morning, while Ginny wasn't present.

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked Hermione.

She shrugged, "Studying, I suppose."

Hermione looked about to see if anyone was watching before leaning into her oldest friend. "I haven't really talked to her in a while, but you know she had a huge crush on you."

Harry groaned. The squeaking and running from the youngest Weasley had been very tiresome the summer before second year. "Yeah, and?"

Another shrug from Hermione before she elaborated, "I'm not sure how 'gone' it really is."

"But Gabrielle and I've been married for a year and a half!"

There was a final shrug before Hermione attended to her meal. Harry shook his head in annoyance as he scooped asparagus from the serving platter to his plate. Gabrielle noticed and gave him a questioning look.

"Later," he muttered and began to devour his meal.

Attempting to avoid the tension between Marie and Molly Weasley, the Potters and Hermione silently slogged through the delicious meal. A quick ten minutes later, Harry handed Gabrielle and Hermione from their chairs and led them all to the Potters' rooms.

A quick Silencing charm later allowed Harry to speak freely. "Hermione, tell Gabrielle what you told me."

Hermione sighed in resignation, "I don't know if that's what's going on."

Rolling his eyes as he pulled three Charms books from his trunk, Harry ordered his friend, "Tell her."

Hermione then related to Gabrielle the history of Ginevra Weasley's crush on one Harry Potter. At the end of the story, Gabrielle was giggling and poking her husband in the ribs.

"It's not funny!" he protested.

"Yes, it is," she collapsed in mirth. "Is the little girl bothering you, mon cher? Do I have to defend my claim on you?" By now, Hermione was laughing alongside her friend.

"Yes! It does bother me," he exclaimed in all seriousness.

Seeing his reaction, both young women calmed. Gabrielle reached out for his hand and gave him a squeeze. "I'm sorry, but it is rather amusing. What young Ginny feels is her business, not yours. You can't be responsible if she fails to accept the reality that you and she can never be together."

Hermione nodded in support of Gabrielle's statement. "Harry, it's a crush that'll pass. Don't worry about it."

Pulling a face, Harry complained, "I don't like hurting anyone's feelings if I can't help it."

Both Gabrielle and Hermione smiled softly. "That's my Harry," Hermione whispered.

"Indeed," Gabrielle concurred.

"So what do I do?" he asked.

"Treat her the same as you've always done," Gabrielle advised.

"Ignore her then?"

"Well, yes." Hermione told him. "I'm not even sure that she's still crushing on you as hard as she had, but I do know that she fancied you quite a bit last year."

"Great," Harry murmured.

"Oh, quit this!" Gabrielle teased. "It's Christmas and I'll not let some little chit ruin our holiday. My sister is being married the day after tomorrow and the day after that is Christmas." Fixing Harry with a mock glare she growled, "You'd better shape up or ship out, buster."

"Yes, dear," Harry replied with a grin. Hermione and Gabrielle began giggling all over again.

.oOo.

The trio sequestered themselves in the Potter rooms for the rest of the afternoon. They worked on homework, chatted with the twins for a bit and escaped out of doors with Charlie, his girlfriend Alexa, the Twins and the newly arrived Sirius and Hestia.

"Where to?" asked George.

"The Louvre?" Gabrielle offered.

Before Hestia's bright expression could evolve into words, Fred snorted, "No way! I need food and fun. Mum's been driving us spare and it's time to cut loose a little."

Harry nervously glanced at Hermione. The last time they'd cut loose in France, his oldest friend had been kidnapped. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Sirius, Hestia and Gabrielle checking on Hermione as well.

She must have noticed the attention because she gave a gentle smile while nodding.

George noticed the byplay, so he elbowed his twin hard before declaring, "Whatever is good with you all. I am a bit peckish, though."

"Let's go muggle," Charlie offered.

Therefore, they wandered. Sticking mostly to the Left Bank, they meandered in and out of coffee shops, stores and small art galleries. Some of them were absolute shit, but there were a few gems to be found.

Harry was finally becoming a bit more comfortable with the Potter fortune. Possibly, because he was beginning to earn his own money as part of his Quidditch career. Boras had sent regular updates and the one time potential signing with Puddlemere was looking more and more probable as time passed. Purchasing expensive items didn't cause him to flinch as it had not that long ago.

Gabi selected eight paintings and three sculptures during the afternoon. Harry's Shrinking charm was a godsend. At one point, Hermione had been admiring an Impressionist work when Harry asked what she thought.

"It's beautiful, but…"

A slight frown creased his forehead, "But what?

"Well, it's sixteen thousand Francs."

"Ah."

He waited until she moved on so that he could purchase the painting for her without hearing a slew of protests. As he paid the bill, Gabrielle approached and murmured in his ear, "For Christmas?" She had seen the interaction between Harry and Hermione.

He nodded. "Too much?"

"Non. Just like Bill, Hermione must acclimate to the fact that we will purchase incredibly expensive things for her because we love her."

Fred and George turned out to be shockingly good surveyors of art. They had no training whatsoever, but as George put it, "I know what I like and what I think is a steaming pile of crap. That over there," he pointed at a post modernist painting, "Is a steaming pile of crap. This here," he pointed to the Impressionist painting of a family at play that he was purchasing, "is beautiful." He gave Harry a bright smile, "It's kind of nice spending our first Quidditch pay check!"

Charlie chuckled as he purchased a small bust of a Dragon's head. Harry heard him tell Fred, "It's an Ironbelly. No idea how the artist got the design, but it's almost a perfect representation of a mature male Ironbelly."

They headed into a restaurant for dinner. As the nine-guest party crowded around the table, Harry called, "Padfoot! Come sit over here."

"Padfoot?" the twins gasped in unison.

"Oh, yeah. I never did tell you guys, did I?"

Fred stared at Harry while George gaped at Sirius. A bit bemused, Sirius cocked an eyebrow as he pulled out Hestia's chair for her.

"He's Padfoot?" George asked.

"Yep. My dad was Prongs and Professor Lupin is Moony."

Completely nonplussed, the Twins sat heavily on their chairs. Gabrielle and Hestia selected a few bottles of wine to start with while everyone perused their menus.

Eventually, the aroma of food brought Fred and George back to their senses. Sirius leaned to Harry and asked, "What was that all about?"

"Fred and George were our version of the Marauders. They nicked the map from Filch and then passed it on to me. Ever since they figured out the pass phrase, they've almost worshipped Moony, Wormtail, Padfoot and Prongs. They didn't go the animagus route and get names, but they were easily the biggest pranksters in school. You've heard of Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes?"

Sirius nodded.

"That's them," Harry pointed to the Twins.

"Really?" Sirius asked, a gleam in his eye. After a moment's thought, he called, "Lads, I've an idea."

Very respectfully, George responded, "Yes?"

"How about you hire me on to your shop as a technical advisor?"

George's mouth dropped open so Fred replied, "We'd be honoured."

"A galleon a month should cover it."

The three pranksters wolfed down their meals before heading out front to begin plotting and planning.

Hestia smiled to Harry and Gabrielle. "I've not seen him so happy since he was exonerated."

"I have," Gabrielle countered with a smile.

Confused, Hestia asked, "When?"

"When he talks about you," Gabrielle answered with a bigger smile. Hestia merely blushed and sipped her wine.

.oOo.

The party loudly tromped into the entry hall of the Delacour home. Laughing and carrying on, the family was in high spirits. It had started to snow on the way home and the Weasley brothers had started a snowball fight. Of course, Harry and Sirius had enthusiastically joined.

A host of elves popped in to take their coats and cloaks. While they were shedding their outer garments, Gabrielle kissed Harry on the cheek and told him, "I'm going to check on Fleur. See you in a bit."

She scampered up the wide stairs and headed down the hall of the east wing to Fleur's room. In a nod to propriety, Bill was 'sleeping' in the west wing. If anyone heard the _pop_ of apparition in either of the betrothed's quarters, no one mentioned it.

As she raised her hand to knock, Gabrielle heard a muffled sob in her sister's room. Concerned, she began to open the door while she knocked. Walking in the room, she saw Fleur sitting on the bed, wrapped in Bill's arms. She was crying and he was holding her close while whispering to her. Gabrielle caught, "It doesn't matter. I love you," from her soon to be brother in law.

The couple looked up at Gabrielle, who asked, "What's happened?"

Fleur merely closed her eyes and snuggled back into Bill, so he answered, "My mum."

"Oh, dear," Gabrielle muttered as she moved to a chair. Sitting, she asked, "Can I help?"

Bill shook his head in negation. "Dad's taking care of it. Mum kind of went off this afternoon. She was rather brassed off that everyone was gone and she couldn't task anyone to do something for the wedding. She ended up picking a fight with Marie. It didn't go well."

Gabrielle flinched as her imagination conjured the scenario. "But why…?"

"Why does she do this? Despite her behaviour, my mum is really a very loving and caring woman. See, she lost her brothers in the last Voldemort war and ever since, she's been petrified to lose dad or one of us kids. She goes into these controlling fits when she gets uneasy about one of us. I suppose the wedding of her eldest son is stressful enough, but add on top of it the Death Eater attack this summer, the fact that your dad is Minister of France and Harry being my almost brother in law…she's scared she'll lose me too."

Taken aback at the description, Gabrielle asked, "She told you this?"

Bill smiled, "Oh no. I doubt she's thought it through to that degree. Dad told me."

"Ah." She paused, "And my sister?"

Fleur's muffled voice arose from her betrothed's shoulder, "Is very mad at my mother and his mother and wish they'd both bugger off!"

Gabrielle's eyes narrowed. Bill, familiar with Delacour women and their temper, nervously asked, "Are you going to hex them?"

With a cold smile, Gabrielle stood and answered, "No. I'm only going to have a bit of a chat with them. That's all."

.oOo.

Gabrielle strode into the Weasley parent's bedroom without knocking. With a forbidding expression, she turned on the blotchy faced mother and the red faced father. "Come with me," she beckoned. Not daring to refuse the obviously irate young woman, Arthur and Molly followed.

She led them to the family sitting room, where Marie and Henri were taking their ease after their 'strenuous' afternoon.

"Please sit," she commanded the Weasleys. Withdrawing her wand, she Silenced the room.

Marie had straightened up when she saw the redheads enter the room. She adopted a hostile stance and was about to hurl vituperation at Molly when Gabrielle broke the silence.

"You are all behaving like children."

Completely taken aback, the four parents stared at the Lady Potter.

"You are squabbling like children, you are flinging insults like children, you are crying like children and you are pouting like children. In the process, you are ruining my sister's wedding to a most respectable and agreeable man that I care for greatly. Do you _want_ to ruin your children's wedding?"

All four parents looked to their shoes and there was more than one suspicious sniff.

"That was not a rhetorical question!" Gabrielle informed them. Her voice was rising along with her temper.

"No. We don't want to ruin the wedding," Arthur responded in a soft voice. "Nor do we want to make our children unhappy."

Gabrielle glared at her mother who nodded. "Neither do I, cherie."

"Nor I," added Molly through her tears.

Henri, who had not really added to the fighting, but hadn't tried to stop it either, just nodded his agreement.

"Bon. Then you will publicly apologize to the family and then _shut the hell up_ about the wedding until it is over! You will not offer opinions until or unless you are directly asked by either Bill or Fleur."

All four nodded in synchronization.

Gabrielle spun on her heel to leave the room. Over her shoulder, she called, "If you do not do this, I shall have Harry Silence the lot of you. That will ensure you cannot speak. I will not have Fleur and Bill hurt any further."

.oOo.

"Holy shit! You did what!"

Harry, Hermione, Bill and Fleur were lounging in Fleur's room as Gabrielle related what she had just done.

Fleur and Bill smiled widely while Hermione merely shook her head. Harry was still taken aback, but smiling the whole time. "You're the best," he exclaimed.

"Merci," Bill told Gabi.

She nodded in return. "Hopefully, things will be much more peaceful tomorrow."

The Potters and Hermione allowing the betrothed couple some privacy as they headed to their own rooms.

.oOo.

In the dark of the night, a one armed man prowled about the cathedral of Notre Dame for the sixth evening in a row. His team had been pouring over the gothic cathedral's ward plans, the expected security emplacements both magical and mundane while preparing their own plan.

Taking note of the new wards and protections, Severus Snape headed back to the flat he had rented under a false name. He narrowed his eyes and slouched, making him appear as if his back was humped. Scowling, he muttered as he moved off, "Now is the winter of our discontent…"

.oOo.

Harry rolled out of bed around five thirty. Watching the magnificent creature that was his wife slumber, he couldn't help smiling. She was gorgeous. She was beautiful. She was incredibly smart and witty. She loved him more than her own life. She was his.

"Forget the run," he mumbled to himself and moved back to bed. Sliding in next to Gabrielle, he reached for her. She groaned when his questing hands finally woke her in a very good way.

"Mon amour," she moaned.

They were late for breakfast.

.oOo.

They spent the rest of the morning finishing their holiday assignments. Overall, they had off light. In their magical government course, they had been assigned a spring term paper in which they were to select an aspect of the British Ministry of Magic that they either admired or disliked. Supporting their evaluation with logic, examples and philosophy was required.

Harry had selected an inflammatory topic: the history of institutionalised and legislated bigotry in British Magical Government. Gabrielle hadn't told Harry, but she'd decided to attack the management and laws surrounding magical orphans. The fact that Dumbledore could so easily usurp the Wizarding Office of Child Welfare and Management when he callously placed Harry with his Aunt and Uncle spoke volumes.

After knocking out a short essay for Defence, they meandered down to the library. Harry hoped to peruse the library here and at Rowan Hill in hopes that he could find sources that may not be available at Hogwarts.

Gabrielle reached for a book and absently opened it to the index. "Mon cher, have you thought about talking to Uncle Guillaume?"

Harry furrowed his brow in thought. He remembered Gabrielle and Fleur discussing their uncle, but couldn't remember the context. "Regarding…?"

"Your paper. Remember, Uncle Guillaume is a solicitor for Wizards Against Real-Politik. He may a bit…odd, but he knows the law inside and out. He's used his voluminous knowledge to successfully outmanoeuvre the Ministry on more than one occasion."

Remembering now, he asked, "Does your father resent his brother assaulting the institution that he's worked at all his life and is now become its head?"

Gabrielle chuckled, "Papa finds it amusing. Most of the time, Uncle Guillaume is addressing real shortfalls in the law or the administration of the law. He considers himself to be a self appointed watchdog to either right wrongs or prevent miscarriages of justice!" she finished with a flourish, stabbing her finger in the air very dramatically.

"Of course, there are the times when he makes a complete ass out of himself. A few months ago, he sued the government for the right to marry an animal."

Harry gaped at her. "Really?"

She shrugged, "He didn't want to marry an animal, he just wanted the government to have a precedent set. Considered it an animal protection effort he told papa."

Harry could only shake his head and smile. "Will he be at the wedding?"

Glancing at the carriage clock over the fireplace, Gabrielle nodded in response to Harry's question. "Come, lunch will be soon."

Harry double checked his watch before rising. Stacking his books, he drew his wand and banished them to their rooms. "I hope the parents have all calmed down," he wished as he followed Gabrielle to the dining room.

"As do I," she replied as she paused, waiting for him to catch up.

.oOo.

Lunch was a much better meal than lunch from the previous day. The Weasley parents and the Delacours began the meal with an apology to all assembled and to Harry's surprise, to each other as well.

Halfway through the meal, Ginny Weasley had unceremoniously plopped down in the chair next to Harry. He caught a flash of long red hair out of the corner of his eye and had to suppress a groan of dismay.

He began shovelling his food once again. From his left, Ginny gave a little giggle and muttered, "Harry, be careful. You're in real danger of eating like Ron."

Harry stiffened. Confused and embarrassed, he hoped that Ginny wasn't flirting with him. Disregarding the many stares, he shovelled one last enormous bite in his mouth and stood from the table.

It's amazing what one can see when primed and looking for it.

Swiftly moving to their rooms, Harry was dreading the rest of the day. Directly after lunch was the wedding rehearsal, Gabrielle had told him that it would last the entire afternoon. The wedding party was sixteen strong if you counted Bill, Fleur the youngest Delacour cousin Monique who was to be the Flower Girl and the youngest Weasley cousin Bobby who was to be the Ring Bearer.

The full mass ceremony (the Delacours were Catholic, but didn't make it to church regularly), Security (a nightmare unto itself), and now the prospect of Ginny flirting with him while his wife was less than ten feet away, all made Harry shudder.

Gabrielle opened the door to their rooms fifteen minutes later, quite annoyed indeed. "Was she flirting with you?" she scowled.

Harry shrugged and placated, "It wasn't a big deal. I just didn't want to shut her down in front of everyone."

Gabi's Veela heritage came to the fore as she began huffing and pacing. Occasionally, Harry would pick up a few stray words; "Strumpet," "Fireball," and last but not least, "Rip her hair out."

Gabrielle's ranting calmed Harry. Somehow, he couldn't be worried when she was upset. If he talked to Hermione about it, he was sure that she would mention that he had a hero complex, a 'saving people thing' and was generally a selfless being. He wasn't so sure.

He knew that he derived a sense of stability and worth from his wife. He also knew that it wasn't the most healthy dynamic to have in a relationship, but didn't know how to change. Or if he even wanted to change.

As a result, when Gabrielle or any other person he loved was upset, Harry was also upset. The immediate action to soothe or help the person was almost reflexive for him. He castigated himself, because he believed that he was only acting in his own self interest. Years later, he and Marie would have a somewhat drunken conversation on the topic. "Harry, motivations are like bouillabaisse. There isn't just one ingredient. I would hazard a guess that most of your 'saving people' actions have been taken mostly for others' good, with a little bit of selfishness stirred into the pot." After giving him a motherly kiss on the cheek, she told him, "You are human, are you not? It would be ridiculous to expect you to have pure motives for everything you do."

Standing, he moved to his wife and embraced her from behind, as she had done to him so many times. Interlocking his hands over her flat stomach, he murmured into her ear, "I am yours as you are mine. Ginny is of no consequence."

She deflated at his words. Snuggling back into his arms, Gabi smiled. "Very well, I shan't rip her limb from limb for talking to you." She turned in his embrace, "But I want to know if she tries anything with you."

He rolled his eyes and was jabbed in the ribs for it. "How would you feel if someone was flirting with me?"

This sobered Harry. He remembered a few years back when Jean-Paul what's-his-name showed up and how he'd been eaten up with jealousy and envy. Nodding, he acquiesced. With a hint of humour, Harry teased, "Yes, dear."

She caressed his chest, "Bon." Kissing him she murmured, "You realize that we have an hour before we need to be at the church?"

He smiled against her lips as his hand moved to the zipper of her dress, "I'm so glad you always know the time."

.oOo.

A somewhat dishevelled Lord and Lady Potter hustled the five blocks between Notre Dame and the Delacour home. Their security detail was Disillusioned and in a trail/lead formation. It was a sad commentary on their lives that they didn't even notice the guards anymore. It was a given that the two minders would always be present.

Running up the steps, they were briefly stopped by the security detail at the door. After a quick identity check, they were in the massive, world renowned cathedral. Harry had been in it a few times already, last Christmas the family had attended Christmas mass. He wasn't sure what he felt about religion, but he did find the massive building to be peaceful and calming.

Following Gabrielle to the front of he church, he fell in with the others as they were pushed, pulled, ordered and generally treated like cattle by the wedding organizer. With a groan, he saw that his opposite bridesmaid was Ginny Weasley. Gabrielle was the Matron of Honour while Charlie Weasley was best man.

Harry looked over the church and found Ron Weasley sitting in the pews. Harry's former friend was apparently upset, if the red tips of his ears were any indication. He was talking to Hermione whose posture was stiff and defensive. _Not another row. Not here. Not now._

Sliding out of ranks, he moved to Hermione. He heard her finish a retort with, "…not that it's any of your business, _Ronald_…"

Not wasting any time, Harry plucked at his friend's sleeve, while entreating her, "Come on, you're needed,"

She turned and followed Harry to the front of the church. When they joined the scrum that had formed around the wedding organizer and the bishop, Hermione muttered to Harry, "Thanks."

He nodded in return, "No worries. What was all that?"

"That stupid plonker was asking me if I was dating anyone. Not that he was even half that courteous."

Harry shook his head, "The more things change, the more they stay the same, eh?"

She sighed, "Unfortunately, yes."

He frowned at her, the unspoken question clear. With an expression of tiredness, Hermione waved her hand to Harry, the response clear as well, _Later_.

Disturbed, he looked for Gabrielle, but couldn't find her. Turning around he almost bowled over Ginny Weasley. "Oh, sorry," Harry muttered.

Straightening her jumper, she replied brightly, "No problem." After a short pause, she asked, "So how've you been? We haven't really talked much lately."

_When have we ever talked?_ Harry thought to himself. "Oh, things are good. Gabrielle is a real blessing and I don't think I could have ever wished for someone as wonderful as she is." _Please, take the hint._

With a neutral expression, Ginny replied, "That's great. Now, I'm not really sure how it works with Gabrielle and Phlegm being half Veela…"

"Excuse me? Phlegm?" Harry asked coldly.

Ginny's face crinkled in amusement. "Oh, it's just a little joke between Ron and me about Fleur."

"Huh. I don't find anything amusing about calling my sister in law a gob of sputum."

"Oh."

Noticeably fidgeting, Ginny fished for another topic. "How's your Quidditch prospects?"

"Fine. Excuse me," he responded brusquely before brushing past her.

Fuming, Harry walked the long way around the crowd to arrive at his appointed spot between Charlie and Thorne Seward, a long time friend of Bill. Harry was not only mad at Ginny for insulting Fleur, but he had another quandary on his hands: should he tell Gabrielle about the casual insult.

It was obvious that since Ginny was resorting to name calling, she was an incredibly immature 'leetle girl'. Would he get upset if little Bobby Weasley said something inappropriate?

"But Bobby is only five," he muttered.

At the same time, Ginny was about to become his sister in law. It wouldn't do to alienate her right before the wedding. The whole thing had been so hard already because of the parents butting heads; Gabrielle would have his hide if he screwed it up now.

Hermione. He'd talk to her.

Relieved of the immediacy of his burden, he vainly tried to attend to the incredibly convoluted instructions given by the wedding organizer. Tugging Charlie's sleeve, he whispered, "Do you understand what's going on?"

The second born of the Weasley brood gave a nod. Harry exhaled in relief, "Good. I'll just follow your lead and blame you if I screw up."

Charlie attempted to muffle his laughter and failed miserably. The cold glare of the wedding organizer –Harry didn't have the foggiest idea what her name was – washed over him like so much air. After surviving glares from McGonagall and Snape, this lady could piss up a rope as far as he was concerned.

Twenty minutes later, they performed a run through of the wedding at a 'walking pace'. It took thirty minutes and at one point the wedding organizer was turning red with frustration. Obviously, the simpletons were not attending to her easy to follow instructions.

Harry rolled his eyes and made a face at Gabrielle and Fleur causing more laughter. It also caused more redness on the face of miss haughtier than thou wedding organizer bitch. Completely uncaring, Harry ignored her in favour of making his wife, sister in law and brother in law laugh.

They finally made it through the 'walking pace' practice, but now the wedding organizer from hell - "I wonder if she can be exorcised," Harry wondered – wanted to perform a 'running pace' rehearsal. The ladies would process into the cathedral, the gentlemen to enter from the sacristy.

Harry seriously considered casting an illusion of himself so he could duck out, but knuckled under and did what he was told when he saw the pleading expression of Fleur. Didn't mean he wasn't bored to tears, though.

An hour later, he grabbed Hermione's elbow as they left the cathedral. "Hey, I need to talk to you about something. Got a minute?"

"Sure, let's walk and chat."

Harry surreptitiously cast a Privacy charm that moved with them. It wasn't as impregnable as a charm for a fixed location, but it did the trick. He quickly laid out what happened between him and Ginny regarding the 'Phlegm' issue and his quandary over telling Gabrielle.

Hermione thought for a long minute before telling Harry, "If I was Gabrielle, I'd want to know. Just make sure that before you tell her, you make her promise not to do anything that would screw up the wedding." She paused and then followed up, "Make sure you phrase it that way. She thinks more of her sister than her pride. That should help."

.oOo.

"She said that."

Harry winced. Gabrielle had a few moods. Most of the time she was extremely cheerful and fun to be around. Occasionally (roughly five days a month), she was grumpy and difficult. Very rarely, she would become quiet and cold. These happenings were few and far between, but when they did happen it was not an unusual occurrence, for example, for four adults to be ripped a new one dead centre in the forehead.

"You promised you wouldn't do anything to upset Fleur and disrupt the wedding," he threw up in a hasty defence.

She narrowed her blue eyes, not happy at all that he'd reminded her of her promise. Huffing, she spun about and began to pace. Twice she went for the door but was intercepted by Harry.

Eventually, she surrendered. "Very well. I shall say nothing until after the wedding. Possibly at school or later."

Harry nodded, "Fair enough. Come on, we're late for the rehearsal dinner. After that rehearsal, I need a big meal."

Gabi giggled, her good mood restored. "It was rather stupid."

"What was Fleur thinking?" Harry asked.

Hooking her arm in his, they headed down the main stairway. "She told me earlier that both she and Bill wish they had forgone the ceremony and settled with the contract, as we did."

"I could have told them that last summer."

"Oh yes, oh wise one," she teased as she snuck a hand in to tickle him.

Once they reached the entry hall, a quick apparition brought them to the back room of L'Auberge, the restaurant the Weasley's had reserved for the Rehearsal Dinner. The rest of the wedding participants were milling about, chatting and putting a serious dent in the liquor bill for the event. The Potters headed over to the knot of Grangers, who were deep in a discussion with a friend of Bill's. Apparently, Joshua Craven had gone to Healer school. Joshua and the elder Grangers were fully involved in a medical discussion of which Hermione seemed only vaguely interested.

"Hey there," Harry greeted.

With an expression of relieved gratitude, she left her parents and Craven to their comparisons of magical and mundane medical treatments.

"Hey," she greeted hesitantly. Hermione was eyeing Gabrielle with caution.

Gabrielle grinned, "He told me and I agreed not to flay her. Yet."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione laughed and sidled up to her friends. They were jointly complaining about the wedding organizer when Harry felt a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he found a slightly blushing Ginny Weasley. In the corner of his eye, he saw Gabrielle turn, her expression neutral with a vague aura of hostility. Hermione had placed her hand on Gabrielle's arm in an attempt to remind Gabrielle of her surroundings.

Ginny sighed. "I see you told them about my rudeness."

Harry merely cocked an eyebrow in response.

"Of course you did. I don't blame you one bit. I do have a question and it pertains to how many apologies I need to make this evening. Did you tell anyone else about my…inappropriate comment?"

Harry shook his head to which Ginny sighed again. "I am very sorry I used that denigrating nickname for Fleur. I shan't use it again to you, anyone else or even to myself. I'm very sorry."

Happily surprised at this sudden show of maturity, Harry was also confused. Before he could say anything, Gabrielle asked, "What has caused this sudden change of heart?"

Ginny flinched, as Gabrielle's tone was cold and incisive. The redhead glanced to her left before answering. "I ran into the twins and they…informed me that I was mistaken in my assessment of Fleur and that I was being unfair and rude."

Glancing to his right, Harry saw a stone faced Fred and George watching the proceedings. Harry's newfound respect for Ginny dipped a bit.

Trying to play the peacemaker, Hermione cajoled, "Ginny…"

A tad red-faced, Ginny interrupted, "Don't make this harder than it already is, Hermione."

"You've apologized. Thank you for that. I will expect never to hear that awful description of my sister ever again. Is there anything else?" Obviously, Gabrielle was not placated by Ginny's words.

The youngest Weasley's face fell perceptibly. She was obviously hoping for a more amicable resolution to the 'incident'. "No. That's it, thanks for hearing me out."

After the redhead wended her way through the crowd, Gabrielle hissed, "She does not understand that a forced apology is no apology at all."

Hermione shook her head in a 'so-so' manner. "Maybe. I think that the twins gave her some tender loving care that woke her up to her inappropriate behaviour. Based on what I know about her, I think her apology was sincere."

"Really?" Harry asked.

Hermione nodded in return.

"Hmm." Shaking his head, he grumbled, "Whatever, let's just get to Christmas for the love of God."

"Amen," the ladies chorused.

.oOo.

The wedding was to be at three thirty PM and the reception to follow at the Tuileries Gardens of the Louvre. It had taken Henri quite a bit of wheedling to close off such a huge public area adjacent to the national art museum of France.

As for the weather? It's wonderful what Heating charms can accomplish in the middle of winter.

Harry was left alone shortly after breakfast. Gabrielle gave him a quick peck and headed up to Fleur's rooms to help calm her and help her get ready for the ceremony. As a testament to the traditions of centuries, nay, millennia, Fleur had a dozen ladies attending her while Bill and Charlie hung out and listened to a Quidditch match replay on the wireless.

Harry opted to join the men.

The three young men chatted and swapped stories until Charlie, in a hesitant voice, asked, "Harry, would you mind telling us what happened in the Chamber of Secrets?"

When Harry blanched and looked in his lap, Charlie quickly back-pedalled, "You don't have to. Bill and I have always been protective of Ginny and we weren't able to be there for her and, well, you were. We were just curious as all."

Setting down his mug of coffee, Harry waved the Dragon Handler off, "No, it's alright. Let's see…well, I guess I'd best start from the beginning." Telling of his detention with Lockhart the ignoramus and the subsequent first reveal of his Parselmouth abilities made it much easier than diving head first into the life or death struggle a kilometre under the school.

Naturally, the story flowed to the second Parselmouth encounter followed by Filch's cat being petrified. "It was a miracle that all the victims were only petrified. One in a million really. I've never talked to Ginny about it, but I've since wondered if she wasn't fighting Riddle's memory the entire time. Controlling the Basilisk and holding it back. Anyway…"

By the time he finished the story, the Weasley brothers had abandoned their coffee for firewhiskey. Completely taken aback, Bill and Charlie stared at Harry for a long moment. "Fuck." Bill muttered.

"Yeah," Charlie agreed.

"Harry…words fail me. I couldn't have done what you did."

"Me, either."

Harry shrugged. He'd always been uncomfortable with praise, much less awe at his exploits. 'Doing what needed to be done' was how he always regarded his adventured. "I just did what I had to do. You guys would have done the same."

Charlie snorted while Bill rolled his eyes. "Besides," Harry continued, "Today's the old man's wedding, no sad more stories today." With a cheeky grin, he added, "I'd lay off the firewhiskey. Fleur will have your hide if you show up sotted."

"Good point," Bill mumbled as he Vanished the bottles and glasses.

"Oi!" Charlie protested good naturedly.

The three of them chuckled and began to discuss very important matters: Quidditch.

.oOo.

Harry and the rest of the male half of the wedding party stood in the sacristy of Notre Dame, listening to the organ music fill the air. The Dursleys had never taken Harry to church even though they were regular members of the Church of England. To say that the Delacours were …sporadic…in their attendance at Mass was to be generous. He hadn't ever been to a high Mass with a full choir and was enthralled and enraptured by the beauty of the music.

Despite his later behaviour, Dumbledore was right at the beginning of first year. Music has a magic all its own.

Listening to the choir singing the famous chorus to Handel's Messiah, Harry was moved almost to tears. None of the men in the party was religious, yet all found themselves moved by the power and emotions invoked by the music.

The chorus finished and the soloist began an a capella rendition of Ave Maria as the rest of the guests filed into the cathedral.

Gabrielle was in the back of the cathedral in a small room with Fleur and their mother. All the last trimmings to her bridal train had been accomplished. She was wearing a diamond tiara from the Potter vaults, gloves that her great grandmother had been wearing when she was married, a blue garter, and new shoes – a penny firmly wedged in the toe.

"I really wish I could have a beer right about now," Fleur muttered.

Gabrielle smiled. "Are you ready Flower?"

Fleur sighed exasperatedly. "Very ready. We should have eloped. Or gone to Gretna Green. Or Las Vegas. Or just signed a wedding contract instead of the betrothal contract."

Gabrielle's expression playfully morphed into one that Fleur had seen countless times. The older sister sighed again, "Fine. You were right."

Smiling happily, Gabrielle bounced out of her chair, "Come on. It's time for you to become Mrs. Weasley."

Fleur smiled broadly and agreed. "Yes, it is time."

Marie had been watching her daughters the entire time, a trickle or two of tears making their way down her face. "I am so proud of the both of you. You've grown into such wonderful women. Both of you married to Englishmen, though!"

"Technically, Harry is Welsh. He was born at Rowan Hill."

Marie mock glared at her youngest before the three of them broke into a giggle fit. "Come, mes enfants. Let us marry off the old maid."

Fleur rolled her eyes and together, they moved to the vestibule.

.oOo.

Severus Snape had all his men in position. When the bells began to toll in the massive church, they would begin.

.oOo.

"…Do you, William Arthur Weasley take this woman to have and to hold. To love honour and cherish, to forsake all others all the days of your life?"

"I do."

"And do you, Fleur Marie Delacour take this man to have and to hold. To love honour and cherish, to forsake all others all the days of your life?"

"I do."

Harry looked behind the now married couple's backs and caught Gabrielle's eye, smiling warmly. She returned his smile and in it all the love, affection and warmth for him that was in her heart was plain to see.

"I now pronounce you husband and wife." Bill scooped Fleur into his arms before the bishop could say anything else. As she wrapped her arms about her husband's neck, the bishop, a rotund man, chuckled. "You may kiss the bride," he intoned jovially.

When the couple finally came up from air (Charlie had to poke Bill twice to get his attention), the bishop raised his hands high and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, Mr. and Mrs. William Weasley!"

Slowly, radiantly the new husband and wife walked down the steps from the altar. The organist struck up Pachabel's Canon in D while the guests applauded.

Then, right on time, the bells began to toll.

.oOo.

"Avada Kedavra!" was shouted by thirteen voices, nearly simultaneously. The falling forms of the now dead security personnel were masked by the bells announcing the new marriage.

Disillusioned Death Eaters sprinted to the main and side doors. Without breaking his stride, Antonin Dolohov cast the Blasting curse, shattering the mammoth wooden doors.

.oOo.

Gabrielle and Charlie had linked their arms in front of Harry and Ginny for the recession from the church when the doors exploded. Without thought, Harry shoved Ginny down to the ground and ran toward the sound. His wand flashed into his hand and he began casting as he ran. A quick Springboard charm shot him over the newest Weasleys.

At the apogee of his leap, Harry saw a boiling mass of Disillusioned people pushing in the shattered doorway. Acting on instinct, he cast three Bone Shattering curses on the way down. All three hit a mark as three different voices began screaming.

The security inside the cathedral rushed to cover the entrances as the chatter of automatic weapons fire was heard. The Queen had already been portkeyed away. The two Presidents as well. Henri had been furious when his security team had forced his and Marie's hand on the portkey hoop. He did manage to cast a Cutting curse at an invading Death Eater, though. The leg that hit the floor without the rest of the body was a testament to the success of his curse.

A veritable firestorm of green eldritch fire erupted from the back of the Cathedral. Fanning out into the crowd, the Killing curses found their mark causing dozens of corpses fell.

By the time Harry landed, over twenty people were dead on both sides of the fight. Conjuring a shoulder high wall of marble, Harry took cover and began casting like a fiend. As he focused on the threat from the back of the church, Gabrielle, Fleur and Bill joined him. Fleur conjured a continuation the wall around the small party so they were in a barbette of sorts. The newcomers concentrated on the invaders from the side doors.

The cathedral had devolved into a madhouse. Guests were screaming and running in vain attempts to escape the slaughter. It made safe casting of high powered spells very difficult as innocents were consistently obscuring sight lines to the still Disillusioned Death Eaters. That didn't prove to be a difficulty for the Death Eaters, though.

The mundane security was easy to spot as they held firearms. The Death Eaters concentrated on them so one by one they fell under concentrated spellfire.

Frustrated beyond comprehension, Harry stood and began chanting. Gabrielle recognized his spell and warned her sister and brother in law, "Get ready! It's going to be fast!"

Fleur cast a Sonorous charm on herself before shouting, "ALL GUESTS, LIE ON THE FLOOR! ALL GUESTS, LIE ON THE FLOOR!"

Most of the guests were too terrified to disobey, so within seconds, the defenders had clear fields of fire.

Waving his wand in a circle Harry finished the chant with a shout before slumping to the ground. Suddenly, all the Death Eaters were visible.

Surprised, all the combatants froze. Bill, Fleur and Gabrielle cut down fifteen Death Eaters in ten seconds.

Harry struggled to his feet, peeking over the marble barricade. He froze at the sight of Severus Snape in the back of the church, directing the invaders. Enraged, Harry stood and jabbed his wand before casting, "REDUCTO!"

Severus Snape had been looking forward to this encounter since the moment his Master had selected him to lead the assault. In one incarnation, Potter had been a thorn in his side since the half-blood Prince had been twelve years old. This was his chance for payback. This was his chance to show Potter who was the better wizard. Snape saw the entire situation flash before his eyes in a moment. With a sneer, Severus Snape cast the last spell of his unfortunately short life. Just like most of his life, arrogance and pride were his downfall. Almost lazily, he cast the Advanced Shield charm, "Contego."

The overwhelming force met the immovable object. The thick beam of dark purple eldritch fire from Harry's spell ripped apart the shield like so much tissue.

Severus Snape exploded into a fine red mist, staining the walls and floor with gore.

Most firefights, which consist of less than one hundred persons in an open space, usually don't last longer than five minutes. Especially when one of the forces consists of well trained warriors. Snape perished exactly three hundred seconds into the battle. It was almost over.

Dolohov had been shot in the head at the beginning of the assault.

Rowe was dead from Harry's first Bone Shattering hex. His spine was mush.

Rabastan Lestrange had died when engulfed in a fireball from Gabrielle. His charred corpse was stinking and steaming.

Rudolphus Lestrange had been stitched with six bullets in his chest. He was dead before hitting the floor.

Alecto Carrow had died when a Cutting curse from a French Auror which had decapitated her.

Amacus Carrow was the only senior Death Eater left. Confused and unsure how to proceed, he reverted to form. "Mordsmorde!" he cast before running out of the church. It never really registered in his consciousness what he high pitched two toned wailing noise was. He'd been hearing it for a while, but never figured out that the entire cathedral was surrounded by French anti-terrorist units with orders to shoot anyone wearing a mask and black robes. He ran right into a hailstorm of gunfire that almost cut him in half.

Wearing Death Eater robes to an assault of this type was definitely a poor choice.

Inside the church, the defenders ignored the Dark Mark as it formed and hung in the high raftered ceiling. Pressing their advantage on the splintering and scattering Death Eaters, they hunted each one down, killing them like animals. Only one of the invading Death Eaters survived the day. His name was Geoff Eaton and had been a follower of Voldemort for two days. Two days that caused him to swing from a rope three weeks later.

.oOo.

The cathedral was filled with smoke and the screams of the wounded. The Potters and Weasleys slowly stood from their barricade as they heard the security team shouting, "Clear!" from various points of the massive church.

D'artagn ran up to them, worry etched on his professional expression. "Are you all well?"

Bill nodded for the foursome. Without saying anything, D'artagn conjured a hoop and began to cast the Portkey spell.

Time slowed as Harry looked about at the carnage. Freezing, he saw the Grangers huddled over a form. Realization burned through his brain and he screamed. There were no words, but a primal release of rage and pain. Without looking back, he vaulted over the barricade and sprinted to Hermione.

Shoving Steven aside, he saw his oldest friend lying on her back, two bullet holes in her chest. A foam of blood was on her lips and her breathing was laboured.

"Move!" Harry spun about to see Joshua Craven running up to them. Harry leapt out of the way but leaned over to keep eye contact with his friend.

"You're going to be fine, Hermione. Josh is going to fix you right up. You'll be fine, keep fighting. Come on, you're the most stubborn person I know, you can do this." His cajoling and teasing tone brought the ghost of smile to Hermione's face.

A mental windstorm gripped Harry. He couldn't lose Hermione too. Where was Sirius? The rest of the Weasleys? Oh God!

Gabrielle's touch on his shoulder brought him back to reality. Bill and Fleur were there too.

Looking down again, he saw Joshua sighing in relief and sitting back on his haunches. To the Grangers, he explained. "She'll be fine. I've Vanished the bullets and begun knitting the bone and tissue together. I need to get her to a hospital, as the potions are much more effective than the spells I've used. The spells will do the trick, though. She'll be just fine in a few days. Stay here and I'll arrange transport for her."

A long moment later, Craven returned with a portkey to Our Lady of Mercy, the Parisian magical hospital. Harry gave Hermione's hand one last squeeze before she and her parents were portkeyed away. Craven moved to his next patient.

"No!"

Harry turned to see Bill staring. He was white faced as he watched Charlie cuddling Ginny. The tough and rough Dragon Handler was weeping copiously as he rocked his sister back and forth, calling her name. His girlfriend Alexa was draped over him in an attempt to comfort him. Bill dropped to his knees and began to scream.

His mind immediately registered that Ginny was injured. Hearing Fleur and Gabrielle gasp, he realized that it must be worse than he thought, so he looked closer. Her chest wasn't moving. Her eyes stared lifelessly. She was dead.

Numb, he fell to the floor. Landing on his backside, he could only stare at the girl's corpse. "I pushed her out of the way…" he mumbled. "I pushed her out of the way. She should have been safe. She should have been safe." Looking to his wife for answers, he saw only regret and tears. Gabrielle shook her head, not knowing how it all happened.

"Come, we must get you to a safe place."

Looking up, Harry saw D'artagn with an expression of unutterable sadness standing above him. "I am very sorry, my Lord. But you and Lady Potter must be taken to safety."

Somewhat muddleheaded, Harry shook his head mulishly. "I'm not leaving my family." He nodded in the direction of Bill and Fleur who were sobbing in each other's arms.

"They will be coming as well. Come."

Harry looked about, being relieved when he saw Sirius and Hestia hobbling toward him. Taking his godfather in his arms, he turned back to D'artagn and agreed. "Ok, now we'll go." Seven fingers touched the hoop portkey and were whisked away.

.oOo.

Forty two guests were killed. Seventeen security personnel died in the line of duty. Thirty nine Death Eaters died in the cathedral.

Obviously, the reception was not held.

Sirius had merely twisted his knee diving over a pew as the melee began. He gave back quite a bit and claimed the kill of Alecto Carrow along with three other Death Eaters he didn't recognize.

Ginny was the only Weasley hurt in the engagement. The security detail had smothered all the redheads in the pews, losing two of their number in the process. Harry's marble wall had shielded Bill and Charlie. The security personnel speculated that Ginny had been hit in the side by a Killing curse, but they'd never know the truth.

Arthur and Molly were devastated. They and Ron portkeyed home that evening; Charlie, the Twins and Percy following on their own via apparition. Bill and Fleur retired to their rooms early. It wasn't how either of them expected to spend their wedding night, weeping and holding each other.

Sirius was confined to the couch or bed, so Harry and Gabrielle went to visit Hermione right after a hasty dinner. She was asleep, but Steven and Alice Granger related the prognosis.

"She'll be one hundred percent in two days," Steven informed them with a hint of awe in his voice. "I knew, intellectually mind you, about magic, but to see my bullet ridden daughter healed in a matter of hours makes it quite real." He squeezed Alice's hand. She never took her eyes off her daughter.

After a moment, Steven asked, "Was anyone else we know hurt?"

Harry grimaced. Eventually, Gabrielle answered, "Ginny Weasley was killed. Sirius twisted his knee, but that's it."

"Oh, no," Alice breathed. "Not the Ginny that's a friend of Hermione's?"

"Yes," replied Harry, his voice just above a whisper.

"Poor Mrs. Weasley," Alice lamented.

Ten minutes later, the Potters were back at the Delacour home and headed to bed. It had been a very long day.

A/N

1. I own nothing. My thanks to all who have taken the time to review this little tale, I appreciate it.

2. Proteus was the original 'Old Man of the Sea' in the Greek Titan mythology. He was an oracle of sorts, but when the Olympian gods overthrew the Titans, Proteus became a sea creature shepherd for Poseidon. In the _Odyssey_, Proteus is described as '…the immortal old man of the sea who never lies, who sounds the deep in all its depths, Poseidon's servant.'

3. The suspense of Habeas Corpus allows the government to detain persons for an undetermined time without ever going to court (a la Sirius).

4. I always spell abhomination, abhominable and abhor with an 'h' thanks to C.S. Lewis. See Prince Caspian (the book, not the movie!).

5. I spaced the recommendation from the last chapter so you get two here. Harry Potter and the Ravenclaw Rebels by Silent Magi and The Crow: Phoenix Rising by Belcris. Ravenclaw Rebels is an interesting tale with much promise. It's early in the story, but it's well written with good grammar and an interesting premise. Phoenix Rising is a phenomenal HP/Crow cross. If you liked the movie and like HP, you'll LOVE this story. I was blown away with how good it is. It can be fairly dark and angsty, but it gives an excellent view of …well, just read it before I tell you the plot.

6. Yes, I was intentionally emulating Richard III in describing Snape while he gathered intelligence outside Notre Dame. Except Richard had both arms.

7. Obviously, I'm taking a whack at JKR for the whole 'Phlegm' thing in HBP. She goes out of her way to make the point about not judging a book by its cover in GOF, yet that's exactly what she does to Fleur in HBP. I guess it's only politically correct to make fun of handsome/beautiful people. As Harry says for me, I don't find it amusing at all.

8. Here's the first half of Sixth year. I'll keep plugging away at this and _All Because of a Hippogriff_. Updates will come when they come, don't ask.


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